Like Real People Do
by Principles of Magic
Summary: [Sequel to "Freaks"] When Hope and her family are forced to flee cross country after an unexpected birthday surprise, her fairytale life becomes a dangerous reality. Meanwhile, provoked by past tensions and a very present threat, Elijah must reconsider his relationships with both Leah and his family, learning the love that keeps you together can just as easily tear you apart.
1. The Last Five Years

**Author's Note**

"**Don't make promises you can't keep."**

**That should really be the first rule of writing fan fiction but better five months late than never at all. Yes, I am finally publishing the sequel to "Freaks in the Middle." When I first conceived of a follow-up to "Freaks" in August 2014 I had every intention to write this story quickly and post it over the course of two months as I had done with "Freaks." Obviously I was underestimating my free time as a full-time student, the frightening depths of my own perfectionism, and ultimately the exact nature this story would eventually take on. Writing really is like trying to rein in a wild animal—more often than not the story gets away from you and does whatever the hell it wants.**

**This story is a very different beast than its prelude. Unlike "Freaks," "Real People" aims to be many things at once: a comedy, a tragedy, and above all else a love story – perhaps, however, not the type of love story you are expecting. **

**I would like to publicly recognize two people without whom this story would still be in my drafts folder and an embarrassing mess besides. To Beth (sqrlb8), eternal and inexpressible gratitude for your flawless directorial skills, the endless hours you devoted to these characters, and your undefeatable love for Leah and Elijah. Secondly - to Laura (****ElleHarper47)****: our conversations about Hope and Hayley and all these characters over the last few months has reminded me of the writer's need to turn characters into **_**people.**_ **Your enthusiasm is more invigorating than any cup of coffee or energy drink and made all those nights staying up to 4am editing these chapters absolutely, completely worth it. ****Any errors that remain are my own.**

**And to my readers, thank you as well for your patience! I will be posting one chapter every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from today until we are done. Your reviews as always are encouraged and appreciated and I hope you enjoy "Real People" as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

**Irene**

**Principles of Magic**

**Part 1 **

It began as it would end: with a celebration.

Hope Mikaelson leaned over the balcony to survey below. She was not at all dismayed that the courtyard was still empty at this hour. There would be time to decorate and set up the catering. There would be time for the cake and the champagne and the presents as well. In whatever she had thrown on this morning, Hope wasn't even yet dressed for tonight's party.

Presently the Mikaelson princess had bigger and better surprises on her mind.

She checked the time on her phone anxiously; they should be arriving any minute now.

Tilting her head toward the side gate, Hope strained her ears for any sound from the garage. Some were driving in, others were flying; they were all coming back for her.

Each had their reasons for leaving but Hope alone could bring them back.

It had been months since she'd seen her aunt in Paris and over a year since her uncle Elijah had come down South, and though they talked every week over the phone or video chat the last time Hope has seen her best friend Leah was last year's party.

Only for her birthday would they hit pause on their busy lives and return to New Orleans.

Hope started. She had definitely heard something: a car engine, a door slam, familiar voices. Shoving the phone back into her sweater pocket, the youngest Mikaelson thundered down the staircase, rushing into the courtyard just as the gate opened.

"Rebekah!"

Launching herself into her aunt's open arms, Hope couldn't care less that she was probably too old for such exuberant shows of affection.

"My, my, I swear you keep getting taller."

While Hope had been graced with her mother's disposition, Rebekah was proud that she shared those oceanic eyes with her niece. Taking in the sight of her fully, she couldn't help but notice that Hope did indeed look older and was beginning to age out both her and her hybrid mother.

Nevertheless, Hope's smile was as youthful as ever. She buried her aunt under a barrage of questions.

"How are you? How was your flight? I can't believe you're here! How's Philippe? _Where's Philippe?_"

"Ah," Rebekah cooed, taking her niece under her arm. "He'll be right along. You know him–he insists on doing everything the good old fashion way. Which means it takes forever…"

Right on cue, the tall, ashy-haired witch appeared, shouldering his way through the side gate, both arms weighed down by suitcases and garment bags.

His glasses were slipping down his nose.

"By all means, leave the weak mortal to carry in all the bags."

Rebekah watched him struggle endearingly but offered only a blasé wave of her hand.

"Ever heard of a thing called magic, Philippe? Did you forget that you're a witch? Why don't you simply levitate them or something?"

"Magic is not a short cut, Rebekah," he chided playfully, approaching the Mikaelson women and dropping the bags at their feet. "Anyway, I could use the exercise."

He turned his attention to his wife's niece.

"_Joyeux anniversaire_, Hope. You grow more beautiful by the year. I am sorry we missed each other in Paris… but… I did get you a present to make up for it, it's… it's somewhere in all these bags. My darling wife somehow managed to convince me she simply had to bring her whole wardrobe –"

"I did."

"–for a simple weekend visit. I told her she could just buy a dress once we arrived, but you know how attached she is to her clothes. Sentiment," he concluded.

"Sentiment," Hope warmly agreed.

Rebekah tossed one of Hope's loose curls back into place absentmindedly.

"Yes, well let's hope I stay as attached to you as I am to my clothes, Philippe. Anyway, I for one could use a shower after all that traveling. I'll find you in a bit, yes? Then we can have a proper catch up, my sweet Hope. Happy Birthday, love, and here's to another good year."

She watched as Rebekah and Philippe ascended the stairs to the upper level and master suites. Although she was certainly excited to see her aunt Hope's pulse had begun to race with eager expectation realizing who was likely to walk through that gate next.

Hope checked her phone again. She had been texting them all day, demanding to know when they passed into each new state as they traveled down from Massachusetts.

She bounced on her feet in utter excitement; the constant travel updates had stopped about half an hour ago, which probably meant they were already off the highway and should be reaching the Quarter just about…

Now.

Two car doors slammed, one after the other, and then Hope heard that familiar laughter that could only mean one thing…

_Leah and Elijah. _

She spun on her heels, her floral sundress twirling at her knees at the sound of their voices just outside the gate.

"Fine, on the way back you can play all the boring Classical music you want."

"I simply suggest we not play the same song on repeat - for hours."

"But it's my _favorite_ song – and you _still_ don't know the words. It's '_baby, you're a northern light; guide me through this endless night.'_ At least get the first line, Elijah."

"Forgive me. I seem to lack your propensity for popular music."

"It's not music," she said in all seriousness, pushing open the gate. "It's poetry. I mean, come on: '_When my dreams are full of fear, baby, let me know you're here' _– just listen to those lyrics. That's art. That's —ah! _Hope!"_

"_Leah!"_

Running forward, they collided in the middle of the courtyard. Hope threw her arms around her best friend and nearly knocked Leah down in her enthusiasm. It had been far too long.

The two had been friends since meeting in college, sitting next to each other on the first day of senior year. That was back when Leah was just a witch who couldn't do magic. They had soon learned that defect was actually because she was a werewolf. And of course, the lowest point of Leah's senior slump was that unfortunate business in the cemetery that had resulted in her transitioning into a vampire born from a werewolf bloodline—a hybrid.

A hybrid who had been studying her ass off in Boston for the last five years and was long overdue for a visit back to the Crescent City.

"I'm back!"

"It took you long enough! What's kept you so busy?"

"That would likely be me."

"Elijah!" Hope exclaimed, falling into his welcoming arms. He pulled her in close and kissed the top of her head as if she were still a young child.

"Hello, Hope, and happy birthday."

"Left the suits at home I see."

"Indeed. Leah has introduced me to the idea of 'vacation clothes.'"

Hope looked at her friend with stunned incredulity.

"Is this so?"

"Yeah, but let me tell you, it was a..._battle_. I was like, 'would it kill you to put on some jeans? They make fancy jeans. Fancy jeans are a thing.'"

"And what happened?"

"Clearly I won," she boasted, proud of her work. Elijah's expensive Italian jeans may have been as casual as he got, but it was symptomatic of the effect she had on him in general: lose the ties, loosen up and enjoy life.

It was the perfect recipe for happiness.

Looking at how happy and carefree they seemed now, Hope couldn't agree more. He was good for her; she was good for him: they were good for each other.

No matter what she ended up getting tonight, having Leah and Elijah here was the best birthday present ever: Hope just couldn't get over the fact that this crazy couple was back in her life. It really had seemed like ages since she'd seen them and yet Leah's bright face, which hadn't felt the effect of the passing years thanks to her gift of immortality, looked the same as ever.

Well, almost the same.

"You cut your hair."

"Just a few inches," Leah assured her, pulling on the ends as they curled in at the shoulder.

"I like it," Hope decided. "Super sophisticated."

"I do too," Elijah declared, wrapping a protective arm around Leah. "Now her students won't mistake her as their peers."

"That happened once," she recalled with spirited chagrin, "and we both agreed it was a hilarious misunderstanding and we wouldn't talk about it again."

"Well you're going to have to tell me the story," Hope demanded, "right after you tell me when you started teaching undergrads. See, we miss so much not being in the same city! So…does this mean it's Dr. St. Ann now?"

"Not teaching, just a TA for the History department. And not quite yet; I defend my dissertation in August."

"Got any plans for the summer?"

"I have been trying," Elijah spoke for her, "to convince Leah to visit Australia and the Subcontinent with me. She appears to have other plans," he lamented, pulling Leah even closer to him and kissing the side of her head.

Leah waved off his delicate disapproval.

"I told you, Elijah, there's plenty of time to see the world after I finish my next degree. _Elijah_," Leah now complained to Hope, "thinks I'm too school for cool—well, not in those exact words of course."

"Speaking of," Hope suddenly gasped, "thank you, thank you, thank you, Elijah for the books!"

Leah looked up at her companion with an incriminating glare.

"You got her _books_ for her birthday? Elijah—I said buy her something useful but _fun."_

"She did not want a horse and already owns several small islands."

While Leah flushed, Hope shared a secret look with her uncle. Tormenting Leah was their favorite bonding activity.

"That's the last time I put you in charge of buying presents—who would want books as a gift?"

"Says she who made us move house to have her own personal library."

"What? Those books were for school! It was either buy more bookcases or move out of the apartment and into someplace bigger. The townhouse was the better investment."

Elijah smiled brightly and Hope devolved into rolling laughter until her cheeks ached. She had missed Leah and her refreshing logic.

"Well, you don't have to worry, Leah, I really do love them—the books I mean. I actually did need a law dictionary for my exam in June."

"You're taking the LSAT too!" Leah screeched. "Get out! No way!"

"Someone has to fight for truth and justice," Hope began.

"Ah! This means we need to plan where we're going to apply! We can go anywhere together, any school, any city—well, except this one of course."

"Ladies," Elijah wondered, sensing a shift in the conversation. "Perhaps I should bring in the bags?"

"Oh, duh," Leah realized, "I totally forgot – wait, Elijah… you'll need the keys. They're in my pocket…"

Receiving the car keys from Leah, Elijah kissed her cheek quickly before nodding to Hope and heading for the garage gate. The girls watched him leave, Leah in particular admiring how well the jeans she had picked out ended up looking on him.

"Leah," Hope whined, hitting her friend's arm, "try to control yourself…at least when I'm standing right here."

"Uh-huh," came Leah's cheeky reply. "You're one to talk…and where is frat boy werewolf superstar Mr. Thompson this evening?"

"_Aidan,"_ Hope drawled, "is at work until six. He has an actual, respectable job doing…business…stuff, anyway don't worry; you'll see him at the party tonight."

"And what a party this is going to be. I mean, you only turn 27 once."

"Uh, don't remind me, I'm so old."

"Simply ancient," Leah joked, squinting at her friend's hairline. "In fact, is that a grey hair I see?"

Hope punched her playfully. There was a commotion above them.

"_What is all that racket?"_

The two friends turned to look up at the balcony. The younger Mikaelson brother waited for them at the top of the stairs with a mischievous grin and a welcoming gesture.

"Either the carnival's set up or Leah has joined us at last."

"Sorry to disappoint, Klaus. No circus today – just me."

Leah waved to Hope's mother who had suddenly appeared on the upper balcony as well.

"I thought that was you," Hayley smiled, leaning over the railing and pulling her shawl around her shoulders. "Did you just get in?"

"Like five minutes ago."

"And did I also hear Elijah?"

"Oh yeah." Leah mentioned idly. "He's out back bringing in the suitcases."

Klaus chuckled, leaning against the banister.

"It appears Philippe and my brother will have much to bond over tonight. Chauffeuring, taking orders, carrying the luggage: how cruel is the servitude of such lovely mistresses."

"Watch it!" Hayley interjected, warning him lightly. "Don't think that you won't be right there commiserating with them, Klaus. Keep on like that and I will give you something to howl on about. In fact, the event people should be here already for set up. Go call them and figure out what's the delay."

With a knowing nod at Leah, he pulled out his phone.

"You see?" Klaus conceded good-naturally. "Cruel and demanding mistress."

Hope and Leah smiled as Klaus left to make the call to the caterers. When Elijah showed up, suitcases in hands and bags in arms, all three of the women tried their best to hold back their laughter.

"What?" Elijah blinked. "What did I miss?"

"Welcome home," was all Hayley said before disappearing back into the upper suites.

Hope grabbed her friend's hand.

"Come on, Leah," she tugged, leading her toward the front gate. "I want to show you something."

"Leaving me already, Leah?" Elijah wondered, repositioning the bags under his arm.

"I'm not stealing her forever," Hope pointed out as she pulled Leah along, "and we'll be back well before the party starts."

Elijah ignored Hope's response, addressing Leah directly again.

"We're been in the car all day, are you sure you don't want to eat something first perhaps?"

Leah blew out an inpatient breath. He was always jumping on her about feeding nowadays but she was here to have fun and hang out with Hope. The last thing Leah wanted to do was waste time sucking on some lukewarm blood bag.

"I'm fine," she answered him with a cool tone. "I'm really not hungry, but if it makes you feel better, I'll have two slices of cake at the party."

"Oh my god, you would!" Hope teased. "Come on, Elijah, let her go—just for an hour. I haven't seen her in a whole year! Go find dad—he's been looking forward to boring you to death with Faction stuff for weeks."

Hope yanked on Leah's arm again and pulled her across the courtyard. Elijah allowed them their fun and watched as they left; he was comforted by the fact that she'd probably be fine as long as she wasn't wandering around the Quarter on her own.

After all, Leah wasn't really alone – she was with Hope.

"Need a longer leash, brother?"

Klaus had finished his call with the event planner and had been watching the scene below from the top of the stairs with an amused smirk.

Elijah's own grin grew as he addressed his brother.

"She'd only latch me to it, Niklaus. It's good to see you again, brother."

"Then come," he demanded, "we have much to discuss. Leave the bags and let's go bond over a bottle of scotch, shall we?"


	2. Great Expectations

Leah stood in the doorway of her best friend's new apartment.

"Okay - so clearly you've not only updated your digs but your sense of style as well."

"Tell me you like it," Hope begged, tossing her keys in the dish by the door.

Leah gave herself a second to take in all that was different. It had been a year since she'd visited but she remembered Hope's original place on Royal being smaller - it had felt to Leah like a tiny room in a doll's house with everything frilly and antique and various shades of pastel. But now it wasn't just the location that had changed. Gone were the double doors onto the balcony, the coral curtains, the princess furniture; in its place had grown up grey walls with dark purple borders, silver accents and hipster flair, exposed pipes and sharp metallic corners.

"Urban chic," Leah decided. "I do. I like it a lot."

Hope closed the door behind them and cutting through the main area headed straight for her bed.

"Yeah, well, the redecorations had to be done. Between me and Aidan there was just way too much pink."

"Aidan?"

"Of course," Hope continued, pulling scarves and bits of clothing off the furniture as she went. "Half his shirts are pink - or blue. Those were his fraternity colors. He even has pink pants—or_, salmon_. Whatever. It was too much. I told him he's not in college anymore but you know Aidan. Go on - take a seat wherever. You don't mind if I change for the party now, do you?"

Leah shook her head but kept standing, watching as Hope opened her armoire and began to scrutinize her massive wardrobe. From here Leah could see that half the closet was taken up with Aidan's suit jackets and dress shirts, a good number of which were indeed delicate shades of blue and pink.

"So, let me get this right: Aidan basically lives here already but you two still have separate places? I thought you had plans to move in with him."

Hope made a frustrated noise in front of her closet though it may just have been that she couldn't find the dress she'd wanted to wear for tonight. She continued to flip through the hangers.

"It's just not a convenient time right now."

Leah wrinkled her nose in suspicion.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"I don't know," Hope sighed, "that's just what he says whenever I bring up the idea of us getting a more permanent place together_."_

"That's definite boy-talk for _not gonna happen_."

"Thanks, real encouraging, Leah."

She shrugged, at last making herself comfortable in one of the big plush chairs in the center of the apartment. There was a small reading table to the right with a collection of tiny frames: Leah and Hope, Aidan and Hope, Klaus and Hayley and Hope.

"No photos of you and Elijah?"

"No photos where I don't look ridiculous or have bad hair - no. I mean, there's the one from graduation, it's on the wall."

Sure enough, hanging by the door and under her framed college diploma was the photo of Hope and the rest of the Mikaelsons taken at commencement five years ago.

Only Hope looked different now.

Shaking off the odd feeling it gave her, Leah turned her attention from the photograph to the coffee table in front of her. Besides an LSAT book and a bag of gummy bears it was covered in craft supplies: glue and scissors and bridal magazines in various stages of destruction.

"Uh…why do you have a copy of _Louisiana Bride?_"

Hope looked up from digging through the armoire before resuming her search.

"Oh, that's what I wanted to show you. _Ah, found it."_

Hope pulled out the cerulean dress with a flourish. She carefully laid it across her bed, ignoring Leah momentarily as she bent over to slip off her shoes. While down on the floor, Hope crouched even lower, using both arms to pull something from underneath her bed.

It was a scrapbook.

She set it on the table in front of Leah before returning to her closet. As Hope changed, Leah flipped through the pages of the album. Each one was labeled with a different topic - dress, cake, hair - with pictures from magazines forming a collage under each heading.

A piece of paper fell out between the pages. Leah bent down to pick it up.

"Oh. My. God. Hope – _is this a list of baby names?_"

"Oh, don't lose that!" Hope cried, reaching around to unzip her dress.

"Do I even need to ask the obvious question?"

"Don't worry," Hope frowned, easing her sundress over her head, "I'm not forcing you into another bridesmaid dress anytime soon; I think we're all still recovering from Rebekah's wedding, and _no_. No babies - yet. But…"

The zipper was caught in her hair.

"…ah, Leah - can you help?"

She leapt onto her lithe legs, leaving her bag on the chair to help her friend out of her dress. With long, deft fingers Leah easily managed to free Hope's tangled honey strands.

"Okay…there – you're free. Now finish explaining this scrapbook fetish you've developed to me. I'm still not convinced you're not hiding a ring somewhere."

Hope huffed as she adjusted the strap of her slip, sliding the blue dress from its hanger. She stood in front of her mirror; she could see Leah behind her in its reflection.

"I am _not_ engaged, Leah, if that was so I would have called you the second it happened, you know that. I call you about everything important that happens in my life."

"Like the one time you called me in the middle of the night when you learned you can order cookies for delivery at 1am?"

"Hey! That was breaking news – and delicious."

Leah crossed her arms, leaning back onto her heels as she looked Hope up and down.

"Okay, Princess Bride, tell me if I've got this straight: you're not even engaged but you're already planning your wedding?"

"You're making it sound weird, Leah. I just like to plan ahead, you know, for the future."

"It is weird, Hope. It's all weird."

"Ugh, I just…don't understand what he's waiting for!"

"So you do want Aidan to propose?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"Want what?" Leah teased, pretending she misunderstood Hope's question. "Aidan to purpose to me? Look, I know we're only half-siblings, but you still can't marry your brother in the state of Louisiana."

Hope rolled her eyes, returning to the mirror. She wished Leah would be more serious sometimes.

"Stop, you know what I meant. I meant…wouldn't you want your boyfriend to step up and make the ultimate move after five years?"

Leah plopped onto Hope's bed, idly fitting the discarded dress onto the empty hanger as she watched Hope slip into her blue cocktail number.

"Newsflash, Hope, I do have a boyfriend of five years and no, you don't see me making creepy wedding dream boards."

Hope frowned sullenly as she smoothed down the front of her dress.

"You and Elijah don't count. You're not like real people, there's no deadline on these things with you two."

When Leah didn't respond Hope realized what she had said and how it had sounded.

"I'm so sorry, Leah," she recanted, taking a seat next to her on the bed. "I didn't - I just meant - "

"Yeah," Leah cut in curtly. "You meant I don't have to worry about baby names."

Hope took Leah's hand compassionately.

"Leah, I'm not looking for an argument. I'm asking for advice. How do I get Aidan to realize I'm ready if he's ready?"

Leah put a hand on Hope's shoulder, staring straight into those innocent blue eyes.

"Aidan's a man, Hope - he's never going to be ready. Give it time. Honestly, I'm sure he's more scared of Klaus than the idea of commitment."

"Oh, crap, that's right. He'd have to asked my dad first."

"Uh, excuse me, Aidan better ask _me_ first."

Hope laughed, appreciating how hard Leah was trying to ease her mind.

"You really think you're more approachable than my dad? People are scared of you, Leah. I bet they don't even have the courage to ask you for directions on the street."

Leah twitched at Hope's odd observation.

"People aren't scared of me," she said, though the levity had fallen out of her voice.

"I don't know...you and Elijah make an intimidating pair: the hybrid and the Original. People talk about you two all the time at Faction events."

"Do they now," Leah frowned. Hope, brushing her hair in the mirror, didn't notice.

"Oh, totally," she went on, oblivious to Leah's subtle agitation. "Faction folks are always joking about how if dad's king of the Quarter than Elijah's king of the world... and then you're always with him which makes you a bit of a celebrity with the Faction too. They've been tracking you two across Europe – did you know you pop up in the news sometimes? Mainly page six and the gossip blogs and such. I've been saving some of the articles – by the way, that was a killer dress you were photographed in at the Met Gala. I clipped it out and it's around here somewhere..."

Leah, once again, was not exactly comfortable with Hope's new interest in scrapbooking.

"Why are people even talking about me and Elijah at Faction meetings?"

"Have you been to those things? Boring as hell. So people talk, Leah. It's just harmless fun, but you've definitely garnered a reputation."

"A good one I hope."

"Don't even worry about it, honestly. I'm sure a lot of it's just exaggerated gossip. I mean, that incident with the bus in Naples wasn't actually you, right? That was pretty horrible. Aidan and the boys were taking bets but I told them it could have been any vampire."

The edge in Leah's voice could have cut glass.

"Well, Aidan and the boys better shut their mouths and stop talking about things they know nothing about."

Hope stopped struggling with her hair and set the brush down.

"Well, to be fair, Aidan can be kind of an ass when he falls in with his fraternity brothers, but I'm right, yeah? That wasn't you in Naples, was it?"

"No," Leah lied swiftly, "I've never even been to Naples. Here, come on, let me zip you up."

Hope held her hair up and off her back so her friend could reach the fastener at the base of her neck.

"So you really don't see you and Elijah's tying the knot - ever?"

Leah struggled to hold back a growl of frustration as she snapped the fastener in place.

"Hope, _what_ is your obsession with weddings? Your own parents aren't even married! And need I point out that Rebekah waited over a thousand years before getting hitched?"

"I don't have a thousand years, Leah."

"You're a hybrid. I don't think you need to worry about it."

"But I do," Hope admitted, letting her hair fall down against her back. "Don't you sometimes think about your life, Leah?"

"Sure, I guess…"

"Well, sometimes I think about my death."

"Jesus, Hope."

"What? I said I like to plan for the future. I may be a hybrid but I'm not immortal. I have to die to become a vampire like you - but I don't want to be too old when I transition - but then there's also things I want to do with my life first before I do transition so...what am I supposed to do?"

As usual, Hope had managed to completely overwhelm her in no time at all. Leah felt a headache approaching; maybe she should have taken Elijah's advice and grabbed a blood bag after all.

"You know, Hope, it's your birthday, so I understand where this existential crisis is coming from but also like, _it's your birthday_, and you're supposed to be taking shots and having fun. So how about we hold the dramatics for another day?"

Hope frowned. "You think I'm being dramatic. You think I'm overreacting, don't you?"

"Eh," Leah shrugged, looking down at her hands. "I just don't think I'm the best person for you to talk to about relationship stuff or witch stuff…or death stuff."

"But you're my best friend," Hope reminded her. "Who else am I gonna talk to?"

"I'm your best friend who never dreamed of being a hybrid and is dating a 1000-year old Original vampire, so…not sure I can really relate to your life or offer you any useful advice."

"Well," Hope conceded, "you can at least have an opinion on dress designs and color patterns."

"Ehh," Leah whined playfully. "I'm not good with colors either – it's all green to me."

Hope shook her head at Leah's lame joke just as her friend's phone went off across the room.

'_When my dreams are full of fear, baby let me know you're here. All the stars up in the sky don't hold a candle to your eyes…."_

"Ugh," Hope snorted. "You made that overplayed nonsense your ringtone?"

"Hey - it's a good song. Just one sec."

Leah jogged across the room to retrieve her phone from her bag. She knew from the ringtone alone it was Elijah.

"Hey, stranger," she grinned in greeting. "What's up?"

"Are you still at Hope's?"

"I don't know - are you checking up on me?"

"Simply checking in. You've been gone for some time."

She spun around to glance at Hope's progress; the birthday girl was currently selecting a pair of heels to go with her outfit. Leah gave her friend a thumbs-up to let her know all was good and take her time. She returned to her call with Elijah, slightly annoyed that he considered half an hour a long time for her to be away.

"Yes, I'm still down the block, Elijah - or maybe I'm on a plane halfway to California. Who knows? I can get in a lot of trouble in just thirty minutes."

Leah hoped she had made her point. He seemed to accept it all in good humor.

"Well, as soon as you land, turn around and come back, Leah. The caterers are done setting up and guests will be arriving soon."

"Roger that, air control. We're on our way now."

Leah ended the call, staring at the screen for a second before pulling her bag over her shoulder.

"We better head back. I still need to shower and get ready. Are you set?"

Hope gestured at the scrapbook as she finished buckling her heel.

"The book, hide it, will you? I'm trying to drop Aidan hints, not anvils."

Leah was all too happy to oblige and shoved the album under the couch, tucking in the list of names firmly so it wouldn't fall out again. Hope threw on a cardigan before grabbing a clutch and retrieving the keys once more from the tiny ceramic dish.

"Come on, Leah. I guess I gotta get you back before Elijah charges me late fees and interest."

"You'd just charge it to your dad's card anyway."

"Hey!" Hope shrieked. "I resent that!"

"Twenty-seven and still a daddy's girl," she declared as she joined her friend in the hall. Hope pulled the door closed behind them, turning the key in the lock.

"I'm going to tell them not to let you near the cake if you keep it up."

Leah's laughter echoed in the stairwell.

"I'd like to see them try."


	3. What Dreams May Come

It wasn't a Mikaelson party without a balloon drop.

In a mere ten minutes time it would be midnight, gallons of silver and blue balloons would descend from the ceiling and Hope Mikaelson would officially be twenty-seven years old.

The theme was Shakespearean with the air of a Midsummer's Night. The caterers had finally set up and the compound courtyard was now decorated in silver flowers and creeping ivy with everywhere fairy lights twinkling. Gossamer streamers and sapphire lanterns wove a lattice over the party guests and everyone was here: Faction members, Beta Phi brothers, family, friends, and Mr. Party himself, Aidan Thompson.

"Leah! There you are."

The blonde werewolf threw an arm around his half-sister, pulling her in close and shoving a glass in her hand. Leah stared down at the white wine with a laughing snort.

"This is a little classy for my taste, but thanks."

"We'll break into the hard stuff later. After party at Rousseau's."

"That's more like it," Leah cheered, toasting their drinks. "So how's our old man?"

"Alive and kicking…and on sabbatical in Florida."

"Good for him," she smiled sincerely. "He deserves it."

As half-siblings, Aidan and Leah shared the same chill disposition, fine facial features, and a father who was a history professor at the local university. At the beginning, when she had first learned the truth of her parentage, Leah had wanted some space – from her father, from Aidan, and from the other Crescent wolves of New Orleans.

Over the years, however, Leah had made an effort to reach out more, to build the relationships that had been thrust upon her with her own hands and at her own pace. If her father came to Boston for a lecture, they would go out to dinner and he would tell her stories about the years he lived as a wolf under a witch's curse. If Aidan traveled north for business they would spend all night at the bars and greet the sunrise together.

But although Aidan and his werewolf fraternity warmly welcomed her as one of the boys, Leah knew that she wasn't really a true Crescent wolf. For one, she was far too entangled with the Mikaelson family to be viewed as anything but one of them.

Then there was the fact that she wasn't a wolf at all, not any more.

"Word on the street's they've been working you like a dog," Leah smirked, amused with herself.

Aidan rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his open beer. Five years had fleshed out his tall college frame, darkening his sun-bleached surfer hair and giving his voice the heavy gravitas of a pack leader. He had long ago ditched the flip-flops and popped collars for expensive tee-shirts under even more expensive blazers. It was a nice look on him but only served to remind Leah that time seemed to be changing everything but her.

"Has Hope been complaining again? She doesn't like my hours; says a manager's just supposed to manage, not roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty."

"Hope is afraid of dirt," Leah remarked with all seriousness. "And aren't your cousins helping out?"

"With the day to day stuff, sure, but the casinos are all in my name until dad gets back and business has been booming, which is good for everyone but me I guess. I have a stack of reports a mile high coming across my desk every day and when you work for the city all those numbers have to be legit. That all falls on me, Leah. The Guerrera empire was such an illegal mess when we inherited it: none of the bars had valid liquor licenses, Rousseau's was in the red, the casinos owed a gazillion dollars to the IRS. Did you know tomorrow's tax day? I've been with our accountant for days. Only Hope could pull me away from the books at a time like this."

"Same," Leah agreed with a knowing nod. She scanned the room to make sure Hope was still out of earshot. Finding Elijah instead, she met his searching gaze, raising her glass to let him know she was perfectly happy though not nearly drunk enough.

Aidan watched their interaction intently. There were some things he just would never understand. He squinted across the courtyard.

"Is Elijah Mikaelson _not_ wearing a suit for once? What is that he's got on - a blue sweater?"

Leah glared at Aidan for the personal insult.

"Excuse me, not just _any_ sweater. That's a lambswool-angora cable-knit something-something, 1000-thread count - ugh, fuck it. I honestly don't know the first thing about clothes except that you wear them. The woman at the store said it was fancy so I bought it for Elijah last Christmas. What I _can_ tell you is that it cost more than God makes in a week so lay off. Also, clearly you're blind - it's cobalt not blue."

Aidan laughed; what was clear was that Elijah's patrician preferences were starting to rub off on Leah.

"Well, it's certainly an improvement over those stuffy suits," he conceded.

"Like you'd know. Do you even own a suit? I don't understand how you get away with dressing like some yuppie hipster to your fancy job at City Hall."

"I'm in municipal finance, Leah. No one cares what I wear as long as I bring in the money this city needs."

"Speaking of…" she moved on, "have you and Hope talked about…you know, your job? Because all that stress can really start to strain a relationship…or so I've heard," she quickly added. "Anyway, I've just noticed you and Hope haven't moved in together yet."

Aidan sighed. Leah didn't know the meaning of subtle.

"Ah yes, so it appears Hope has _definitely_ been complaining about me," he frowned, taking another sip from his beer. "Leah, if you must know, it's just an inconvenient time and I don't think it's a good idea for us to get a place together until all the Factions have officially ratified the new Constitution."

"That sounds like an excuse."

"It's what we call political reality, Leah. Not to be crass, but there's already enough talk around town about the Thompsons being in bed with the Mikaelsons and I'm talking figuratively and literally here."

Her jaw dropped; the Faction apparently thought it was open season on her private life.

"I hardly see how that's any of their business," Leah grumbled. "What does sex have to do with politics?"

"Everything, Leah - aren't you a history major or something? Then you should already know: behind every influential man is an even more influential woman. That's what the Faction's afraid of."

"_Afraid_?" Leah coughed, her wine going down too fast. "What - they think you're being manipulated or something?"

"In a way. Some consider me dating Hope and representing the wolves to be a conflict of interest; there's been talk. I try to keep the worst of it away from Hope but folks have been speaking out more and more at meetings about what they see as 'compromised motivations.' They're worried that us Thompsons are too involved with the Mikaelsons - and it's not just the vampires and wolves who're taking issue."

"Who the hell else cares?"

He used his bottle to point across the courtyard.

"Look over there, for example – that woman is one of the leaders of the witch delegation. She's been stalling negotiations over the Constitution for weeks."

Leah, like every good Mikaelson, was not a fan of the witches; they had lied to her, manipulated her, and killed her one too many times in the past.

"Don't tell me they want more free rein to do their shady ass rituals."

"Naturally, but under the new laws they'd have to turn that ritual into a bill, introduce it at a meeting and have the Faction vote and accept it first. Quite democratic, but still…the witches are worried that the werewolves and even the vampires are being, um…_persuaded_…to form a voting bloc, to always vote against them and in the interests of the United Hybrid Kingdom."

"You mean Klaus," Leah figured flatly.

"They mean you and Hope. It's a chain of influence, Leah. The vampires and the werewolves won't dare to cast a vote in favor of any witch proposal if it ends up looking like they're supporting the same people who went after Klaus Mikaelson's daughter and Elijah Mikaelson's girl."

Leah thought this over for a moment, hiding her disgust in her glass. Elijah was the government nerd, she hated the mere thought of a bunch of people arguing over nothing in a room for hours, especially if these people were arguing about the implications of her relationship with Elijah like it was some United Nations resolution and not none of their fucking business.

"This is all just too stupid."

"It's supernatural politics, Leah. It's a fact of life in New Orleans."

"And that's exactly why I left," she admitted freely. "I still don't get why Hope wants to have a hand in all this crazy."

"How else can you change things for the better? I just wish Hope would see that she and I are both working toward the same goal. She's working on the Constitution and I'm working on the economy but we're both working to improve this city for the supernaturals who live in it."

"She just wants to spend more time with you, Aidan. Can't fault her for that."

"Well, there's work to be done," he began to fluster, "and not all of us can just run off and honeymoon for five years."

It came out a bit starker than he had meant and Leah found herself on the defensive.

"Boston is not some tropical island, Aidan, and Elijah and I did not run off – we _moved, _people do that, and we're not on our honeymoon –we aren't married. We're just happier away from this dumb city."

"You liked it here when I first met you."

"Was that before or after the witches killed me?"

"Hmm," Aidan hummed. "Point taken. Things are different now though, Leah. You can come back now. Hope certainly wants you back."

Leah shook her head furiously, finishing the rest of her wine in one go and immediately swapping it for another from the tray of a passing waiter.

"No way," she insisted, swirling her glass. "Leaving New Orleans was the best decision I ever made. Elijah and I have a house, neighbors, jobs, lives. We do normal things now, like stuff real people do. In fact, you would be really proud of me: Elijah and I just hosted a dinner party for some of our colleagues and I made my famous ten-layer trifle for them _and they liked it._"

"Who doesn't like a giant bowl of whipped cream?"

"I'm not joking," she poked him, growing serious again. "Normal is nice. Didn't you ever just want to be Aidan the man and not Aidan the wolf? If you really want the good life just leave the supernatural stuff behind - leave New Orleans behind. It's something to strive for. Maybe you and Hope should consider it."

"This is my home, Leah. This is Hope's home."

"I'm just saying. It's the people who make it home, not the location."

"New Orleans needs me, Leah. There's still so much to be done, to be fixed. I've gotten it all to a better place, but it's not like I can retire anytime soon."

"And what does Hope say to that?"

"To quit and let one of my cousins take over the casinos. That if it's a matter of money we should just get married and join bank accounts because she has enough for both of us."

Leah nearly spit out her drink. She thought Hope was trying to go for subtle with the marriage hints.

"She's funny," Leah concluded, realizing Aidan had simply thought Hope was joking.

"And yet she didn't find it ironic that my MBA is from a school with her name on it."

"Ah, yes, the Mikaelson School of Business. I still remember the day Elijah waltzed into my office and dropped a cool 35 million just so he could stalk me. What a keeper."

Hope wandered up just as their laughter died down.

"Why are you hiding in the corner?" she demanded in rapid excitement, already quite giddy off the champagne. "Stop plotting whatever and come on, you two! Leah, grab Elijah – there's five minutes 'til midnight, move it!"

Hope grabbed Aidan by the wrist, yanking him through the crowd. Leah hurried to follow after them, searching for Elijah as she swam through the mesh of bodies.

There were so many people dancing in couples and chatting in little groups that she soon lost Hope's lead. As luck would have it, someone eventually ran straight into her, knocking the contents of her glass down the front of her dress.

"_Ay dios mío_, forgive me, child."

The woman looked horrified at the result of her clumsiness. She had greying black hair, a slight Mexican accent, and a harmless sort of warmth about her. It was the woman Aidan had pointed out earlier: the leader of the witch delegation. She looked so timid and scared, like Leah was going to hex her or something.

Ironic.

"You're Leah St. Ann, yes? Forgive me and allow me to set this right."

"No, please, it's fine," Leah admitted, waving away the woman's concern. She shook out the velvety material of her grey dress and the liquid rolled right off. "Look, it's all good. No harm done."

"You are a sweet child," the woman smiled, reaching out to cover Leah's hand with her own. Leah tried to pull it away but the woman held tight, continuing her falsely kind words. "You remind me of my own daughter. I lost her some years ago. She was so spirited, so much potential – just like you."

"Oh-h," Leah stuttered, unsure of what to say. "I'm…I'm sorry for your loss."

"You will be."

Leah blinked, leaning in. She couldn't possibly have heard that right.

"What did you say? _Ow._"

A spark ran up her arm. It was probably just static from her dress; the night was dry and the velvet was already clinging to her bare legs. She reflexively yanked her hand out of the woman's grasp. The witch was still smiling and Leah began to wonder if she was not all there.

"I should go…"

"Of course. Enjoy the night while you can, dear."

Leah frowned but was immediately distracted. Elijah had called her name from somewhere through the crowd. Glancing across the courtyard he was nowhere in sight but when she turned around again the witch woman was gone as well.

"Freaks," she muttered coldly. Leah recalled that one of the many reasons she disliked witches was that they all seemed to lack basic social skills. Hope didn't count of course. Hope wasn't a witch, she was a Mikaelson – she was hybrid and she was turning twenty-seven in less than a minute.

Smoothing out her dress, Leah sought out Elijah once more. He appeared still lost to the chaos of the courtyard. Finding Hope, however, was an easy endeavor. Klaus was grandstanding on the courtyard steps with his daughter at his side; the music had been cut and the corona of guests was turned toward Hope as midnight rapidly approached.

Leah was stuck in the mob and couldn't get any closer. She noticed Hayley up on the balcony, still wrapped in her matronly shawl as she oversaw everything from on high.

Scanning the back wall, Leah at last located Elijah. He stood with Rebekah and Philippe on the other side of the party; she locked eyes with him for a second and he acknowledged her reappearance with a raise of his flute. Aidan was at the foot of the staircase using his phone to record Klaus' speech which already had his daughter blushing with embarrassment.

"And then she realized there was half a worm wiggling out of her apple and despite both Hayley and I and half the Quarter insisting that eating a worm never killed anyone to this day Hope refuses to eat anything with apples in it."

The crowded chuckled right on cue, the laugh track to this family sit-com.

"And then," Klaus went on, "there is the saga of her driving license but let's spare poor Hope, shall we, if only because my brother is signaling that the count down is upon us. Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, raising his glass toward his daughter, "please join me in heralding in another wonderful year for my beautiful daughter, Hope Mikaelson."

She joined the crowd in an enthusiastic round of applause as the clock struck twelve and silver and sapphire balloons rained down upon everyone. Aidan could barely hold the camera straight he was laughing so hard; Hope had gone as red as the apples she hated as the party goers began a rousing yet surprisingly harmonious chorus of "Happy Birthday."

Leah found herself joining in, carried along by the energy in the room until there was loud mechanical noise, a _chk-chk_, like someone cocking a gun, like the static in the air before the lightning struck the tree.

Every muscle in her hybrid body tensed in anticipation of the unknown threat. Looking around, she at first didn't understand why no one else seemed concerned. The sound must have been subsonic to their ears; most of the guests were still singing, oblivious to the ominous noise which Leah was starting to wonder if she had only imagined.

But the eldest Original was already weaving toward her, a shark in the water as he moved with deadly purpose and precision. He had heard it too, and from the balcony Hayley had just enough time to lock eyes with Klaus before the noise sounded once more, so loud this time that panic immediately erupted among the guests.

Elijah touched Leah's arm just as the lights thumped off and the entire courtyard was plunged into darkness.


	4. Practical Magic

Screaming, screaming. Everyone was screaming.

It was pure and total chaos in the dark.

Slants of light soon poured in from every side of the courtyard as the gates were thrown open; in streams people pushed through them, stampeding in their eagerness to escape. Elijah's hand circled around Leah's waist protectively as he shielded her against the current of moving bodies.

"Stay close," he warned, guiding her safely toward the sidelines. The way was not easy for them; balloons bounced around their feet and overturned tables poured shattered glasses onto the ground. Just as the crowd began to thin and the darkness began to deepen an orange glow filled the courtyard. Flames had erupted around the perimeter.

Someone had relit every candle simultaneously.

"_Leah! Elijah! We're on the staircase!"_

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Hope took the moment to congratulate herself - for once her stupid party trick had some actual use. Her parents, however, were more than willing to underestimate her ability to harness the power of fire. Jumping to protect her, Klaus and Hayley had sandwiched Hope between them on the stairs, looking and listening everywhere for anything that could pose an immediate threat to their daughter.

At this point Klaus was speaking for everyone.

_"What the bloody hell is happening?"_ he seethed, looking to his brother for answers.

Elijah's attention however was on Leah. He tried not to be too obvious as he carefully searched for her usual nervous tics; she had already been apprehensive about returning to New Orleans and even a harmless blackout was likely to set her teeth on edge.

For now, at least, she was distracted from her own anxieties. Leah watched as Aidan said a hasty goodbye to Hope, apologizing for having to leave her at such a time - but his pack needed him right now and he would be back later. Hope could only wave weakly from between her parents as he left.

It was probably best he didn't stick around. The party was definitely over going by the destroyed decorations and the ruined cake and bodies that now covered the floor.

"_Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me._"

Leah was furious - see this was why she hated this city. This weekend was supposed to be a pleasant and enjoyable visit to New Orleans - uneventful. Dead people at a birthday party was _definitely_ an event, the type that did not happen in nice, normal cities like Boston. Was it simply impossible for supernatural creatures to breathe the same air without killing each other?

Elijah slid a hand down her back, hoping to still Leah's anger before it ran away with her. It didn't help that Niklaus echoed the same sentiment; he was all but snarling to discover his home was now a war zone.

_"Someone explain what is going on - now!"_

"Well, the electricity's shot," came a forgotten voice. Everyone looked across the square to see Rebekah emerge from a service door. "Power surge or some nonsense like that. I have Philippe on it now."

Crossing the littered courtyard, the blonde Original had to step across the stones with a careful placement of her heel. She gestured at the bodies as she passed.

"What the bloody hell happened to them?"

Elijah pulled away from Leah to begin the investigation. Selecting the first person he came upon he sank to one knee but already detecting no sound of a heartbeat he began to search the body for wounds.

"It appears," he started, looking back toward his brother, "that a good portion of your guests, Niklaus, have simply dropped dead.

"Any night but tonight," Klaus spat, his hand gliding along the railing as he descended the staircase to meet up with Rebekah. Elijah had already joined her, the Mikaelson siblings reuniting to assess the threat on their family.

As she watched the three Originals converse in hushed tones, Leah felt alone on the sidelines in more ways than one. It was, however, nothing to pout about; if she felt useless it was simply up to her to make herself useful.

Leaving Hope to her mother, Leah found her place again by Elijah's side. He was bent over another body and she recognized the tense roll of his shoulders as he examined the dead woman.

It was the crazy lady from earlier.

"I know her…"

"Yes," Elijah exhaled, looking up as she approached. "I am told Ms. Ramírez represents the witches in all Faction negotiations."

"At least she _did_," Leah had to point out. "I think it's safe to say she's permanently retired now."

"Hmm," he had to agree. "It appears the witches will need a new leader. From our interactions many years ago I knew her only as the curmudgeon across the river – respected though, among her people and if I recall famously not a fan of my brother."

Leah frowned. The woman hadn't seemed like a cranky recluse at all from their earlier interaction.

"Do you think this is a political thing? Like a hit?"

"I don't know," he admitted, coming to his feet. "Let's ask an expert in that area."

Appearing behind them, Klaus was not amused.

"That I am, dear brother, but birthdays are sacred. There are plenty of other perfectly good days in the year for murder."

"Are you pleased Ms. Ramírez is dead?"

"I wouldn't say I'm _displeased_."

Elijah hooked his brother with a sharp stare until Rebekah came to Klaus' defense.

"Oh, let him be, Elijah. You know Nik wouldn't do anything to spoil Hope's birthday. Also, when have you ever known our brother not to spill a little blood? Both of you look - there's no wounds on these people. They were killed by magic."

"Magic?" Klaus was eager to dismiss. "Jumping to conclusions, sister?"

"Are you telling me you didn't feel it too?"

"Feel what?"

"There was _magic_ at work right before the blackout, Nik. It felt like a charge in the air, like -"

"Static," Leah offered, unconsciously wringing her hands. Klaus turned to her with a surprised expression as if he'd just now realized she was there at all.

"Wish to play Cluedo with us, sweetheart? Or should we rather add you to our list of suspects?"

"Niklaus is being facetious," Elijah apologized to Leah, glaring at his brother.

"Far from it." His eyes swept over to her. "You return to New Orleans and now there is chaos in my home. Simple causality."

"I had nothing to do with this," she frowned. "I don't even know who this woman is."

"But you knew her daughter - Antonia Ramírez. Surely you remember the witch who slit your throat."

Leah flinched - how could she ever forget that night in the cemetery. Hijacking Davina's spell, Antonia had tried to use her to complete the witches' Harvest ritual. Pulled into a standoff between Antonia and Klaus, Leah was the witch's bargaining chip; one violently disposed of when the deal inevitably fell through.

And that was the story of how Leah had died - suddenly but not quickly enough. She still felt that knife in her nightmares.

Elijah took Leah's hand to quiet her; she had been unpredictable lately and all too easily provoked by memories of all that had happened to her in New Orleans. He did wish Niklaus would stop stirring up trouble when they clearly had plenty of it already.

"Perhaps," Elijah suggested, "we should refocus our efforts. Ms. Ramírez is not the only one lying here—there are others. Do we know who they are?"

"Witches," Hayley called down in response. She and Hope had realized the benefit of a new perspective and were now surveying the courtyard from the heights of the upper balcony. From their vantage point, they could see what the others could not: it may not be Clue, but the witches were definitely pieces on someone's game board.

"Ten dead witches," she didn't regret reporting, "and either this is a seriously creepy coincidence or there's a reason they're all lying perfectly spaced apart."

Flashes of memory burst across Elijah's mind: a cemetery, a triangle, a grimoire, the knife.

Leah was making the same connection; she hadn't realized she was crushing his hand until Elijah gently called her name.

"Not again," she whispered to him.

"I don't think it is but we need to be sure. Stay here with Rebekah. I need to see this for myself."

Zooming up the stairs, Elijah took his place on the balcony. Hope sidled up next to him, pointing over the courtyard below.

"I've worked it out," she explained, drawing the lines in the air as she spoke. "It's a star. Look - if you connect the lines the bodies make a five-pointed star."

"But there are ten witches here. That's too many."

Down on the ground Rebekah circled around the bodies, considering his point.

"Five points...but ten places where the lines cross each other. Ten nodes, Elijah. Ten witches."

"Hope's birthday – the blackout – the witches. I'm guessing none of this is coincidence," Hayley grumbled as she came up beside Elijah. He remained silent, his grip on the railing tightening as he continued to study the board in front of him.

It was uncomfortably familiar: witches, and patterns, and stars. A star was a common symbol used for focalizing a witch's power. He recalled seeing them drawn on nearly every page of a specific grimoire, an ancient spell book, one that had once belonged to a very powerful witch…

Elijah grew restless. Nothing that carried the taint of magic bore any wholesome fruit.

He suddenly noticed where Leah was standing and shifted anxiously.

"Perhaps," he announced in general, "in the time being, until we have figured out the true intention of this - arcane architecture - it is best that we do not stand within it."

He locked eyes with Leah and she, realizing where she was standing, took three giant steps back.

"Wisely spoken," Klaus applauded as he stepped away from the witches himself. "After all, we all remember what happened the last time -"

"And perhaps," Elijah promptly cut his brother off, "Philippe will have some insight for us when he returns. Rebekah, where is he now?"

"Still trying to the get the power back," she provided. "He'll be back soon I'm sure. Your generators are ancient, by the way, Nik, it might actually take a little magic to get them working again."

Sure enough there was a heavy thump as the lights booted back on all over the Compound. Rebekah sighed in relief as Philippe remerged from the service corridor, turning off the flashlight he held in his hand.

"Lights are back up? _Fantastique."_

He just then noticed everyone standing glumly around a circle of dead bodies.

"Let me guess - party game gone wrong. Is everyone all right?"

"We're fine," Rebekah confirmed, "but have you seen anything like this before?"

"What? Self-sacrificial star of doom? _Non._"

"Are you saying the witches did this to themselves?" Elijah asked from above.

"There was powerful magic at work here tonight. It's still in the air."

"See?" Rebekah smiled smugly. "I told you I felt something. I've been living with Philippe long enough to know when someone's been doing magic in the house."

"And how does any of this help?" Klaus demanded. "I want to know the 'why' not the 'how.'"

"They're related," the witch tried to explain. "To use an art metaphor, Klaus, sometimes one spell is only primer for another, a way to prepare for a larger, more powerful ritual. The power of a violent act against witches - massacres, burnings, mass suicide I'd throw in – well, that power can be harnessed to fuel some very formidable magic."

"I'm sorry," Leah sputtered. "I thought this was the whole point of the stupid Constitution - to stop shit like this from going down."

"It is," Hope spoke up, defending the very laws she had help to write, "but if you're willing to kill yourself then clearly some fine and a slap on the wrist isn't going to stop you from violating it."

"Then maybe you should work on that," Leah snapped, her anxiety turning into anger. All this talk of spells and rituals had her on edge and she would give anything to leave this place - this city - right now and never look back.

"Don't get angry with me," Hope shouted down from the balcony. "This isn't my fault, Leah. It's _my_ birthday - you really think I planned for it to go this way?"

"Hope," Elijah requested, turning her aside to talk privately. "I am very sorry your birthday has been derailed. Perhaps if we can work through this quickly - work through this _together_ \- the rest of the night can be salvaged."

Hope knew what her uncle was doing, apologizing on behalf of Leah so she'd drop the issue. His subtle suggestion that she play nice did not go unnoticed either. She rolled her eyes, turning away to text Aidan. When Elijah looked up Hayley was frowning at him.

He paid no heed to her disapproval; right now he had other concerns. Gliding back downstairs, Elijah came up beside Leah. She was standing just outside the star listening to Klaus and Philippe debate worst-case scenarios. Noticing the nervous way she nipped at her nails, Elijah wondered if perhaps Leah knew something she hesitated to contribute – just like he.

"Leah, I am sorry about all this. I know I promised you'd have nothing to worry about this weekend."

"You can't apologize for everything," she muttered. "For example, some of these theories your brother's been coming up with are simply inexcusable."

"Nonsense," Klaus turned toward them. "Leah's just taken offense to my suggestion that we reconsider her involvement. Let's not forget that it was you at the center of their last ritual five years ago - and here you are again and here they are again," he gestured.

"Oh, come on," she scowled. "I came back to New Orleans and a bunch of witches off themselves. Please look up the definition of 'coincidence,' Klaus, and drop it."

"It's nothing personal, love, simply considering the possibilities."

"Well, you're barking up the wrong tree," Leah bit back. "The only use I was to the witches was as a vessel for their stupid Harvest magic. I'm a hybrid now – the witches can't use me anymore."

"Niklaus, if you are drafting up possible threats to this family I strongly suggest you don't waste our time including Leah on your list."

"And what do you have to offer then, brother? Please – share your ideas if you believe them better than mine."

Elijah opened his mouth but let slip only a deep exhale, a tense hand on his waist as he spun around to Leah, then Rebekah, then back to Niklaus. They stared at him expectantly but he was reluctant to voice his theory, as if saying it aloud would confirm it to be true.

He had realized it first from the balcony where the view had turned the witches into pieces on a board. There was only one person Elijah knew clever enough to play such a complex and dangerous game.

"Ten witches," Elijah began to list, racing through the evidence. "Ten witches whose magic is now fueling this star, this focalizing ritual, Niklaus, the groundwork for a spell unimaginably more sinister – "

"Don't even say it," Klaus turned away in denial.

"Think about it, brother. Life and death - a balance."

"Says the immortal vampire, and must I remind you that although the witches clearly have nothing against human sacrifice, they still consider themselves guardians of that balance and therefore necromancy violates their perverted code of ethics."

"And if they are desperate, Niklaus? What limit then to their treachery? Their Harvest has failed, their elders are dead – there is only one witch strong enough and skilled enough to lead them back to power."

"No – think of something else. Anything else."

"Niklaus, we're out of options. It's time to accept that the witches have made the ultimate move against us."

Klaus began to pace, casting a nervous glance toward his daughter on the balcony. His agitation soon spread to the others, alerting Rebekah that her brothers were keeping secrets.

She went still with the sudden realization, catching her older brother's eye and knowing it was true. Leah stepped forward, looking from Rebekah to Elijah in a frantic sweep. "Who're you talking about? What don't I know?"

"Hayley - " Klaus interrupted, breaking away from the huddle, "Get Hope out of the Quarter. Now."

"But - "

"Not a word, Hope. You follow your mother and do what she says."

Hayley was stirred into action by the urgency in his voice. She took her daughter by the hand and they disappeared down the hallway. Satisfied Hope would be safe with her mother, Klaus now turned to confirming Elijah's theory.

"Philippe – come, you're with me."

He turned toward the side gate, pulling the witch along by the shoulder. Worried about her brother's intentions with her husband, Rebekah started after them. She found her way blocked by Elijah.

"Let him go. I need you here with me, Rebekah. "

"I don't want our brother dragging Philippe into this. Just because he's a witch doesn't make him Klaus' weapon. A snowball would have a better chance in hell."

Elijah sighed, looking past his sister toward Leah before answering.

"We're all in this, Rebekah – none of us are safe. I need you here to prepare. If hell has truly emptied and its occupants walk among us then we need to leave the city."

He reached his hand toward Leah; she took it without hesitation.

"Tonight."

**AN: Worst birthday ever or what? Thanks to everyone who's been messaging me! I love hearing from you - drop a line with your theories and predications or let me know what's up in a review. **


	5. Runs in the Family

Hope checked her phone for the hundredth time. It had been her birthday for nearly three hours and only the first minute of it could be called anything close to happy. She hadn't even had a chance to try the cake before her dad and Elijah had gotten all worked up over a bunch of dead witches. Hope recognized she was being flippant in the face of danger but it was still her birthday and therefore well within her right to complain all she wanted.

"Dad's overreacting," she continued to carp. "Why couldn't we stay with Leah and the others? I don't see how I'm any safer all the way out here."

"You're not," Hayley explained, setting the glass of water on the end table. "You're only safe because you're with me. That's the safest place in the world – at my side. Now - if you're done complaining about me and your father trying to keep you alive - can I get you anything else?"

Hope threw herself back into the couch cushions with a huff of ingratitude, frowning as her mother left to scour the house again for anything useful that had been left behind.

Neither of them had been back to the plantation in years since permanently moving into the Quarter. In its abandonment the manor had fallen into a graceful state of neglect; a thin layer of dust covered those items that hadn't been moved to the compound. There was the piano her uncle had taught her to play, the tea set Rebekah had sent over from France, the bust of Socrates on the bookcase. She recalled that it was a hollow sculpture and how Klaus used to hide things inside when he wanted to keep them from her, trivial things like the spare set of car keys or that really old bottle of bourbon.

Both had ended up in her possession; it was such a predictable hiding spot what did he expect? Staring at the bust, Hope groaned at how predictable her father was being now. If something exciting ever happened she could always count on him to make sure she wasn't part of it.

Hope turned around in her seat, continuing her visual tour of the house. Behind her the sitting room opened onto the kitchen. The cabinets had been stripped of their contents and the refrigerator was unplugged and empty. Seeing it now she remembered the last time the witches had ruined one of her family's parties.

It was the year her father had allowed the Faction to host their holiday meeting at the plantation house. Leah, their houseguest at the time, had been hexed at the party and Hope had been forced to work with Antonia to save her friend from dying right there on the floor in front of that very fridge.

It was weird to think of Antonia after all these years – at one point they had been friends – sort of – in the way everyone used to pretend to be her friend because they were scared of her dad.

Leah was her first real friend. Hope dreaded to think that the witches were after her again.

From the doorway, Hayley saw the shiver pass over her daughter.

"Sorry 'bout that - the heat's shut off. I should have grabbed you a sweater or something before we left."

"Not that there was time to – you literally dragged me out of there, mom. Why can't we just go back?"

"You know why."

"But the witches probably have it out for Leah too. Shouldn't we be worried about her?"

"Not as long as she's with Elijah."

There was no reply to that; it appeared Hope had already lost interest in the answer to her own question. She was bent over her phone scrolling through messages.

Hayley stared at her intently, easily guessing who she was texting.

"Hope – you understand that if Klaus and Philippe discover that Esther is back you're gonna have to hit pause on your life."

"I'm pretty sure I can multi-task, mom, you know: fight evil and still have a life…"

"We're trying to _save_ your life, Hope! Esther has been trying to kill you since before you were even born. If she's back – we leave tonight."

"And yet I get zero say in this major life decision."

"Don't even start. I don't care if it's your birthday or you think you're all grown now - this plan was already decided long before tonight. We are leaving. All of us."

"And then what? Just run forever from Esther?"

"And then we work out another plan to take her out - but the important part is just getting you away from New Orleans. Here's where their ancestors are buried. Here's where the witches are most powerful and – are you even listening?"

Hope looked up from her phone, realizing her mother was still talking. She tried to rationalize her rudeness.

"I'm just –"

"- texting Aidan."

"He's not answering any of my messages."

"I'm sure he's just busy with the pack. In fact, you should take the time since we're here to message him that you might be gone for a couple… for a while."

"_For a while?_ For how long exactly?"

"Not forever. Just until the city's safe for you again."

"It's New Orleans," Hope stressed. "It's a city full of vampires and witches and wolves – it's never going to be safe. But I'm not a child anymore, mom, I can handle it."

"You can handle a thousand-year-old super-witch?"

"There's nothing we can't handle as a family," Hope concluded. Her mother was not buying any of it.

"If you think you can convince me otherwise, you're wrong. If you think you can convince your father - you're delusional."

"Thanks," Hope quipped sarcastically. "Such thoughtful parental advice."

"I try," Hayley sighed, wondering what was keeping Klaus.

Hope pushed aside her concern over Aidan's radio silence and finally put down her phone. She turned to her mother to suggest an alternate proposal.

"How about a compromise then. If I'm being _forced_ to leave New Orleans then it is more than fair that I get to pick where I go when I do – I want to go to Boston."

"That's hardly off the grid," Hayley started to protest."

" - but I'll have Leah and Elijah to protect me and so you won't have to worry about me at all. This way I won't be distracting you and dad from taking down Esther and I can come home all the sooner."

"And you think your uncle would actually stay up there and let your father take on Esther by himself? Hope, your deal's not gonna cut it. Elijah won't want Leah anyway near this city – but you two can't be on your own, unprotected, in some other city hundreds of miles away either. I'm sorry but the only way this works is if we all leave together and stay together."

"All of us but Aidan, you mean."

"Are you cold?" Hayley said, suddenly changing the subject. "You know what, stay here. I'm going to go check if we left any extra clothes upstairs when we moved."

Hope could hear her mother's footsteps echoing through the empty house. Pulling out her phone again, she checked for any new messages from her boyfriend.

Not one. This was not good.

Aidan was obsessed with his fancy phone. Not responding - this was extremely unusual. Lost in her thoughts, Hope hadn't realized her mother had returned and stood watching her from the doorway.

"Um," Hayley faltered, seeing the worry on her daughter's face. "I…I found one of your old college sweatshirts."

She took a seat on the couch as she handed over the sweatshirt and watched as Hope shimmied into it, picking up the phone from her lap as soon as she had pulled her arms through the sleeves.

"You know," Hayley began slowly, placing a hand on her daughter's leg, "your father once brought up the possibility of turning Aidan if you two ever decided that was what you wanted."

"Why were you and dad even talking about us?"

"To be honest, we were talking about Rebekah and Philippe, then we got to talking about Leah and Elijah. Well – Klaus was doing most of the talking…it was actually more of a rant – he was pretty drunk."

"Does this story have a point beside making me really uncomfortable?"

"Yes, um, sorry. Right. My point was: if your father was considering turning Aidan then he knows how much he means to you. He wouldn't let anything happen to him, Hope. He could never stand to see you cry."

Hope clutched her phone to her chest allowing herself to believe in the possibility of a future forever with Aidan.

"It's a nice dream but it's just that. Aidan would never want to be a hybrid. He's too much of an All-American werewolf to even think about being a vampire."

"People change," Hayley gently suggested, "and it's really only the first few weeks of being a vampire that are the worse. Everything else you get used to pretty quick."

"Yeah, that's what Leah said," Hope recalled. "I told her you said she was the poster child for Team Hybrid. She didn't like that much."

"Doesn't mean it's not true. I would love to know how she had such a smooth transition – back in classes a week later and not a single coed mysteriously went missing. Her control must be extraordinary."

Their conversation was interrupted by a thump at the door.

"Did you - ?"

"Yeah," Hayley rose slowly. "I heard it too. Stay here. Let me check it out."

Sidling around the wall into the foyer, she peered onto the porch through the window on the side of the door. It was dark on the lawn and empty except for their car.

"Hope - you heard something too, right?"

"Yeah, but maybe it was just the - _MOM!"_

The door had exploded open and something or someone barreled into Hayley. It threw her to the ground, knocking the wind from her lungs as she struggled to scramble to her feet and reach Hope. Not waiting to greet her attacker, the hybrid zoomed into the parlor, immediately at her daughter's side and already searching for something to use as a weapon.

Knocking over the glass of water Hayley tore away the leg from the antique table. She wielded her makeshift stake like a dagger, her eyes glowing amber as adrenaline and fear pumped through her veins.

Something was in the house.

Loud, crashing sounds could be heard from across the hall, then the sound of shattering glass in the study, then an angry frustrated growl from the library, the sound of books being thrown to the floor in a fury.

Correction -_ someone_ was in the house – looking for _something._

Shielding Hope behind her, Hayley kept a watchful eye on the doorway that opened into the main hall.

"Mom..."

"Shh," she warned, pushing her daughter further behind her. The footsteps were approaching, growing louder. They were coming down the hall. They were right around the corner.

Raising her stake, Hayley readied for the attack. It nearly slipped from her fingers when he came into view.

"_You…"_

"Forgive the intrusion," Mikael began, stepping calmly into the room, "but I seem to be having a problem. Perhaps you might be able to help."

There wasn't even the time to be surprised. Hayley shoved Hope back with one hand, the other pointing the stake at Mikael as she dared to engage the Original in conversation. There was no way she could take him on by herself, not when she had to protect Hope at the same time. Her daughter didn't even have the supernatural speed to make running an option. Hayley's only plan was to keep Mikael talking long enough until Klaus arrived – hopefully with backup.

_"What do you want?"_ she growled, her eyes glowing in defiance.

The vampire found amusement in her little charade, how she feigned courage for the sake of the pitiful pup behind her. Mikael couldn't bear to even look at them; the child was as foul as the mother, the apple just as diseased as the tree that bore it.

He stepped forward.

"We meet again, _wolf - _and you must be the whelp's daughter – the abomination of an abomination – your parents should never have suffered your creation."

"Do _not _talk to her," Hayley barked. "If you talk, you talk to me."

"Then since my son and his runt of a brother are evidently absent I am forced to discuss matters with a woman – so be it. I am looking for something, an object. A weapon."

"The White Oak stake," she inhaled in realization. She held her own stake all the tighter. "And you think it's _here_?"

"I've torn apart your compound and it certainly wasn't there."

Hope yanked on her mother's arm, terrified for her friend.

"Mom, Leah and the others are at the Compound, we have to—"

Hayley silenced Hope, pushing her further away from Mikael.

"Yes, I agree," he addressed the young hybrid. "Children should be seen and not heard - that is unless you know where that disgrace you call a father has hidden the White Oak stake. Tell me and I shall spare the wretched mongrels you call friends."

He began to step forward and every muscle in Hayley's body tensed, ready to protect Hope with everything she had...

"_Stay back!"_

"_Where is the stake?"_

_"Get away from her!__" _Klaus roared from the entryway, Elijah materializing at his side, Tunde blade in hand.

Hayley didn't hesitate. She moved like the wind - swift and powerful she attacked Mikael in his moment of distraction. The stake lodged itself in the Original's chest, forcing him backwards as Hayley grabbed Hope by the arm and ran in the opposite direction.

Mother and daughter found themselves on the patio by the pool. Hope had no time to catch her breath as Hayley pulled her around the side of the house toward the car.

Elijah's SUV sat with engine and high beams still on, bright light flooding the lawn. The doors had been thrown open in the brothers' haste to confront Mikael and save Hope. Philippe and Leah were crowded in the back and Rebekah stood beside the car, frantically waving the two hybrids over.

"Will you bloody hurry up, Hayley, _come on!"_

Before she could shove Hope into the vehicle Klaus and Elijah emerged onto the porch. The brothers sped down the steps side by side as they raced to join the others.

"He won't be down for long, Niklaus."

"We need to be far away from here before he pulls that blade out. We should have known one of our parents was at the center of this."

"We did – the wrong one."

Klaus turned away from his brother to notice his sister and the others still standing between the cars.

_"Everyone in a car now!"_ he demanded. "Hope - Hayley, you two are with me."

Leaving Elijah to manage his vehicle, Klaus took command of the situation with his own car. He yanked the rear door open to shove his daughter inside, groaning at her sudden bout of sentiment.

"Dad, Aidan—where's Aidan?"

"Not now, Hope. Just get in."

_"Where is he?"_

"I don't know. _Get in the car."_

"Mikael's going after wolves - we can't just leave him. I can't just leave without Aidan!"

"Oh, yes you will," he pushed her inside. "Let's not worry about what's already lost."

"Wh-what does that mean? Dad, _what does that mean?"_

Her pleas were cut off as he slammed the door behind her. Up front, her mother already had the keys in the ignition.

"What happened back there?"

"Not now, Hayley, just get on the road."

Nodding, she turned the key and began to pull out of the drive. Behind them, Elijah followed, the gravel crunching underneath their spinning wheels.

"It wasn't Esther, was it?"

When he didn't answer she continued.

"Don't shut me out, Klaus. I need to know these things."

He ran his hands over his face, exhaling through his fingers.

"No, the witches did not resurrect Esther. My mother – mercifully - still reigns in hell."

"He was looking for the stake," she added, eyes still on the dark road ahead.

Klaus remained silent. He didn't know which parent he'd prefer to face again; both were uniquely despicable in their own vile ways. He was comforted only by the fact that Mikael's wrath was directed at him and not his daughter. Still, the Original vampire would stop at nothing to hunt them all down. No one was safe – especially not if they stayed here in New Orleans.

Coming to the turn onto the highway, Hayley hesitated.

"I need to know where to go. Right is back to the Quarter; left takes us north on the interstate. If this is really happening, are we running or fighting, Klaus?"

The decision had already been made but not by him.

A second later, Elijah brought his car around them on the shoulder, pulling ahead into their lane. There was a moment where everything seemed to hang in the balance but then Elijah activated his left turn signal and set them on their path.

"North it is," Hayley sighed, pulling out onto the open road.

**End of Part 1**


	6. On the Road

**Part 2**

Sleep wasn't going to happen and Leah at last gave up even trying. Though her body was exhausted the fear of napping through something important had kept her mind awake all through the night and well into the next day.

For all those hours they had been on the road.

She pulled her cheek away from the cool glass of the window, wiping off the smudge it had left with the palm of her hand. Outside she could see the blue humps of mountains off in the distance and beyond the afternoon sun was tinting the sky a violent shade of orange.

How were they back in the car already? From pulling in to driving out she and Elijah had barely been in New Orleans for a handful of hours.

At some point just around dawn the two cars had pulled off the highway. While the brothers refilled the fuel tanks the others had an opportunity to switch seats and cars as they so wished. Naturally this simple maneuver hadn't gone as smoothly as Elijah would have hoped – let's just say Leah wasn't stuck in the back because she wanted the extra legroom.

Hope was in the backseat with her, though presently asleep. She had worn her voice thin through the night trying to pull answers from her mother and father, repeatedly running herself into a wall of silence from both parents. Hope was therefore all too eager to switch into Leah's car when the opportunity arose though the new combination of her, Leah, her mother and Elijah was no more lively.

So Hope had fallen asleep because there was simply nothing else to do. She now stirred fretfully but slept on, her head resting in Leah's lap with an old college sweatshirt bunched under her head as a pillow.

It was so silent you could hear the wheels clack softly as they sped over the road.

A green highway sign was approaching on the right but it zoomed past in a blur and Leah wasn't able to catch whatever it had said. She was now sure Elijah was speeding; except for a few furtive glances at her through the rear-view mirror, he kept his eyes forward on the road ahead, both hands tightly on the steering wheel at ten and two.

The last time anyone had said anything was so long ago that Leah didn't even remember what had been said. This car ride was tortuous enough without all the suspicious silence. She couldn't shake the feeling that the adults were keeping something from the kids.

Except she wasn't just some kid; she and Elijah had gone through too much together for him to start keeping secrets now. She deserved to know everything he knew, especially if it had any bearing on their life.

How was it that she was just now learning that Elijah had a serial killer for a father? Sure, she had never really asked but that seemed like the sort of information that one brings up on the third date. And what about this White Oak stake business - where had that come from? More importantly - who had it now?

Leah slouched down in her seat. She didn't much like the idea of a weapon that could kill an Original…

Elijah sensed her unease as he gazed at her through the mirror.

"You should try to get some sleep."

"That depends - how much longer am I going to be in this car?"

"Not much."

He saw her roll her eyes in the reflection.

"I acknowledge this is not the best of circumstances, Leah, but I assure you we are close…or is something else troubling you?"

Several things were troubling her actually but Leah wasn't willing to voice them with Hayley and Hope also in the car. So instead she focused on a more general injustice.

"I called shot-gun at the gas station."

"I am… not familiar with that term," Elijah lamented.

"It means she wanted to sit in the front," Hayley explained, looking up from her texting.

"No - it means I _was_ in the front but then you asked me to switch. I guess it's easier to discuss 'family secrets' up front when the rest of us are stuck in the back."

"It's just a seat," she reasoned but Leah had already turned away to stare stony out the window.

Hayley looked over at Elijah for guidance. When he didn't say anything, she shrugged and surrendered.

"Honestly, if you guys have some car ritual thing, I didn't mean to throw it off. I just thought it would be easier this way."

"Leah - Hayley is right. She is simply helping me keep the other car informed of our route. I need her up here with me."

"Yeah, I get it."

Elijah hadn't needed to see the hurt on her face – he heard it in her voice. He chose his words carefully, wishing he could speak to Leah as freely as he would if Hayley and Hope were not present. He kept it simple.

"We'll be out of the car soon. I promise."

They drove on a little longer in silence. As they began to approach a town, Leah started to notice an increasing number of convenient stores and gas stations appear outside her window. She didn't recognize the names on any of them.

"What the hell is a Wawa? Elijah - what_ state_ are we even in?"

"I will explain it all but not now. We're almost there."

"_Almost where?_ Look - I _get_ that this may not be the best time for the full explanation of what the hell's going on - but the least you can do right now, Elijah, is tell me where we are going."

"Pennsylvania," he told her, if only to prevent her from raising her voice further.

"Okay - can't get any more specific there? Like a city or an address..."

"Pocono National Park, Leah - that's where we are going."

He sounded frustrated with her, but perhaps it was just with the situation they were in. They were all hungry and tired and on edge, not to mention stuck in a car together for over eight hours.

"Okay," Leah sat back. "Sounds nice, I guess. So…what's in this park exactly besides…trees…?"

"A safe house," Elijah sighed, reading the brown sign as it flashed by on his right. "We need a base from which to properly assess the situation regarding my father."

"And _why_ do you have a safe house? Please tell me this is not like some drug smuggling underground railroad thing."

Hayley tried not to roll her eyes as she looked over at Elijah, watching him carefully craft his response.

"It's a cabin, Leah, remote but legally maintained, I assure you."

"You've never told me about it," she tried to state as an unemotional fact.

"It's been unused and unneeded for decades. I had nearly forgotten of its existence all together. Once I had used it as an outpost from which to hunt down my brother. The two of us were once on very poor terms…but that was many years ago."

Hayley returned to her phone with a slight smile. Klaus was going to get a kick out of this once she texted him what Elijah had just revealed about their final destination.

"Okay," Hayley clarified, refocused on her task. "So I'm gonna tell Klaus to take the next exit and then, what was it again, continue for three miles?"

"Correct. Please also let him know it's back roads after that."

"Why are you even texting the other car?" Leah wondered. "Can't you just call Klaus and give him directions?"

Elijah let his eyes travel to Hayley for a moment before returning to the road. The two of them and Niklaus had agreed there were things Leah and Hope didn't need to know, not yet at least. Texting allowed them to keep their conversation private, their 'family secrets' as Leah had surmised, still indeed secret.

"You would not wish my brother on speakerphone," he admitted instead, "and we're almost there besides. Entering the town now."

As Hope stirred in her sleep Leah stroked her friend's hair absentmindedly, looking up front again.

"So are we then stopping first and picking up some stuff before saying goodbye to civilization?"

"Stuff?" Elijah pondered distractedly. He was focused on slowing down the car to bring it safely through the exit ramp.

"Yeah, _stuff_," she tried to explain. "You know - food, water, graham crackers and marshmallows."

"If you're hungry, Leah, there is a cooler of blood bags in the back."

She sighed; he wasn't even listening anymore. She was trying to vie for Elijah's attention but between Hayley and the road she was losing.

"Not for me, Elijah, for Hope – you know, the one of us who actually needs food and water to survive. Hope gets cranky when she's hungry. She nearly tore my head off earlier over the last of the trail mix."

Hayley's phone binged and Elijah's attention was wholly diverted.

"It's Rebekah. She says Klaus is driving her crazy and how much longer?"

"Tell her to hang in there for another forty-five minutes."

"Much easier said than done - I would not want to be in that car right now for sure. Okay - sent. Anything else you want me to tell them?"

"Please let them know," he dictated to Hayley, "that once we reach the bridge Niklaus should follow me closely. The turn is very sudden and there are no signs if I recall."

Hayley tapped in the message then turned around in her seat to peer into the back where Hope was just beginning to flutter awake.

"Hey, honey. Welcome back."

"Are we still driving?" she poured out groggily. "What time is it?"

"4:30," Leah offered. "At least it was last time I checked. My phone died back in Maryland."

"Ugh, why did you let me sleep so long?" Hope grumbled. She pulled her hair from her mouth, rising from Leah's lap. "I didn't want to miss anything. I said wake me up in five minutes."

"Oh five _minutes? _I totally heard five hours. My bad."

Hope stretched her arms and whacked Leah in the face almost but not quite entirely on purpose. Their interaction convinced Hayley that her daughter was content enough for now and she turned her attention back to answering Rebekah's texts.

Hope yawned into her arm and tried to gather her bearings. She leaned in toward Leah, lowering her voice.

"Any clue where we're going?"

"Some national park it seems. I hope you're not a fan of indoor plumbing."

"Why are we going camping at a time like this?"

"I don't know - why are you whispering in car full of vampires?"

Hope slapped herself on the forehead as Elijah smiled at the two of them through the rear-view mirror.

"You will not be sleeping in a tent, Hope, I promise."

"I'd rather be sleeping in my own bed," she grumbled loudly. "I'd rather be home."

He ignored the details of her preferences.

"The cabin will only be temporary, I assure you."

"But you can't promise her that," Leah spoke up. "Can you, Elijah?"

He was going to ignore that too.

Silence returned among them. The car lurched and bumped along as Elijah turned from the back street onto a dirt road. There were no signs welcoming them to the park but the Original knew exactly where he was going. The woods extended like a deep, thick wall around them, the trees rising on either side like a dark, enchanted forest.

Hope had nestled down into her seat. Itching to make contact with Aidan she grabbed her sweatshirt back from Leah's lap and dug into the pocket.

A hand was on hers. It warned her not to bring out the cell phone.

"Leah – ?"

"Don't," she cut in, glancing toward the front before mouthing: "Your father is crazy."

Hope frowned at the words but understood what they meant. It was a warning: Klaus would destroy her phone if he knew she still had it. In times like this he would want to control everything; even something as small as a cell phone was a variable he'd rather not have in play. Leah herself had experienced many of the finer impracticalities of Klaus' paranoia when she had been held under house arrest at the plantation house five years ago. He was not beyond locking young girls in glass towers and cutting off their communication with the outside world.

If it was a liability to Klaus Mikaelson it was also a threat.

Hope hid her phone once more, clutching her stomach as it growled unhappily.

/

It was another thirty-seven minutes before they reached the cabin and Rebekah had counted every one of them. There was simply nothing more insufferable than being stuck in a car with Klaus Mikaelson.

"Finally!" she shouted to the world, slamming the door behind her as she slid out of the front seat. "One more minute in that car and I would have bloody lost it."

Leah couldn't agree more. She jumped out of the back seat of her own car and looking around was unsurprised to find nothing but trees for miles. Still in their cocktail dresses and fancy dinner jackets the family looked completely out of place against the uncivilized backdrop of nature.

The brothers immediately met between the cars then moved away from the others to talk in private.

"They'll be safe here, Niklaus."

"Nowhere is safe as long as Mikael is alive."

"Then we stay here and work out a plan. It's hidden, secluded; we have Philippe with us – he can cloak the whole area."

"I will not trust my family's safety to the tricks of some witch."

"What are you two talking about?" Rebekah called out, suspicious of her brothers' secret little meetings. "This is your cabin, Elijah, get over here and get us into it."

The siblings joined the others who had now gathered in front of the cabin. It was two storied, rustic and remote, the type built in the 1930s by starving men with stout hearts. It could be called cozy, if one was able to look beyond the weeds, cobwebs, and decades of dust threatening to consume it.

"I guess you could call it charming," Leah decided, "if it didn't look like such a dump. I thought you had people to keep these places up?"

She dove into the trunk of the car to pull out the cooler of blood bags as Elijah came up close beside her.

"Some places are meant to be off the grid entirely. Have you had one of those today?"

Leah looked down at the cooler in her arms and made a face.

"Really? _That's_ what you're worried about right now?"

"I'm unimpressed, brother," Klaus called over, turning Elijah's attention toward the cabin once again. "So this is your idea of an evil lair? It hardly inspires fratricide."

"Nik's right - this is wretched," Rebekah added.

"Perhaps we can continue our complaints inside?" Elijah begged them, urging his siblings toward the cabin.

Klaus climbed the three steps to the porch. Opening the storm door, he tried the main doorknob.

"Locked," he grumbled. "Elijah, give me the keys."

The eldest Original blinked at the odd request. Klaus was instantly infuriated.

_"You don't have them, Elijah?"_

"Naturally," he sighed. "We flee New Orleans and you expect me to have the keys to a cabin I haven't visited in thirty years simply in my possession."

"Well, yes!" Klaus cried, finding the fault obvious. "Is a little foresight really too much to ask?"

"You didn't bring the keys!" Rebekah squawked.

"I can just pick the damn thing," Leah offered.

"Did anyone pack any food?" Hope wondered.

"Never mind that," Klaus volunteered. "I'll knock the bloody door down and that'll be the end of it."

"Perhaps let's try another solution," Elijah stepped in, turning to Philippe with a very obvious request.

"Yes, I'll open it," the witch conceded freely, "and I'll do you one better and spell it."

"Ah, magic." Klaus smiled smugly. "How very useful indeed. I see why Rebekah keeps you around."

"Shut it, Nik," his sister frowned. "Philippe's not some witch for hire. He helps because he cares about this family - because he's _part_ of this family. Try to remember that."

"And I will be asking for something in return for my services," the witch now turned to Klaus. "First, I need ingredients - sage, a knife, and salt – lots of salt – and candles. And since you're going to have to go into town anyway for supplies, please do pick up some food so I don't starve to death before I can finish the protection spell."

Rebekah laughed at this. She had always been wary of Klaus and Elijah using Philippe as their personal on-call witch. It made her proud to see how her husband held his own against her brothers.

"A protection spell," Elijah clarified. "You're going to seal off the house."

"_Bien sûr__._ None of us will be able to sleep in peace otherwise. Since I assume we don't have the deed to sign the cabin over to me, we'll do it the round about way. Once I cast the spell on the door, the only vampires who can enter will have to be invited in by me."

"Guess that leaves you out in the cold," Rebekah smirked at Klaus as she followed Philippe up to the door.


	7. Light in August

The floor creaked under the weight of Elijah's steps as he crossed over the threshold. Despite its wild exterior, the tiny cabin was in a charming state of neglect inside. The spacious living room merged into an open kitchen and while there was no refrigerator or central lighting a small generator out back allowed for running water.

A rustic chandelier served as a centerpiece for the main room. Instead of light bulbs it was fashioned with tall, white candles.

"There's your candles," Hayley announced to Philippe. "Though I guess we should buy some more or else we'll be sitting in the dark tonight. So, are we drawing lots to see who goes into town?"

"I'll go," Leah volunteered, setting the cooler down on the kitchen counter. Dust rose up around it and she wrinkled her nose. "I'm gonna need to add a duster to that shopping list though. Can I get the keys from you, Elijah?"

"I don't want you to go alone," Elijah responded, coming up around her in the narrow space of the kitchen and skimming his hand across her back. Leaning over Leah, he hesitated to hand the keys over just yet. "No one should be going anywhere alone," he added, generalizing his earlier request.

"Come with me then," she hummed happily. She turned away from the counter and into his arms, throwing her long limbs around his neck. "It won't be a chore if we do it together."

After so many hours with the others, Elijah knew she was bargaining for a quiet moment alone. He nevertheless had to deny her.

"Regrettably, I need to remain here and discuss matters with my brother. Another time perhaps, Leah. When things have settled a bit more - you and I will go together."

The corners of her mouth slipped down into a frown but he followed up his words with a kiss to appease her.

"Next time," he promised, guiding her arms from his neck. "Now give me a moment to check that everything's in order upstairs and then we'll find someone to go into town with you."

"I can go on my own," she called after him and Leah began to realize Elijah hadn't given her the keys yet because he was afraid she'd do just that.

"Okay – _fine_," she sighed, appearing in the main room. "Who wants to come with me then? Hope?"

"Hope stays here," Klaus announced, bringing in more bags from the car. "She does not leave my sight."

"And Philippe's starting to prep the spell," Rebekah apologized. "But make sure you pick up some of those little chocolates with the caramel centers, Leah, or cream puffs, Hope loves cream puffs…oh, and add ice cream to the list. It's still her birthday after all."

"There's no place to refrigerate all that," Klaus rounded on his sister, "and anyway we are in a war, Rebekah, there's no time for unnecessary celebrations. Leah – go – Hayley, go with her. Bring back only what we need. Compel it all. Leave no trace. _No one_, do you understand, can know we are here."

Hayley shoved open one of the windows in the living room more forcefully than was probably necessary.

"I don't see why Leah can't go by herself. She knows what she's doing - she doesn't need a babysitter."

"Hayley – please," Elijah asked gently, coming down the stairs. He extended her the keys. "Go with Leah."

His request was not without cause. Although he loved Leah and trusted her in all other matters, Elijah did not trust the young hybrid on her own in that small town, not when she hadn't feed since they had started on the road from Boston.

He had been counting: she refused one blood bag before Hope's party and another earlier today on the road. Elijah was more than eager to chalk Leah's abstinence up to her self-control but there had been incidents, in the past, that made him wary even now.

Within the last year Leah's handle on her urges had begun to waver, like a spring in a machine that had now wobbled loose; he didn't know if the ghost inside was crying out for help or simply settling into place. He knew his Leah…but hybrids were unpredictable. His brother was the worst of them. He wanted Leah to be the best.

Yet the change in her behavior since this summer had been marked: outbursts of anger, restless insomnia, the kitchen incident –

Perhaps that's when it had truly begun, this change in the person Elijah thought he had grown to know so well.

He couldn't help but recall: it had been August.

The end of the summer, another three months spent traveling the world with her. Now that was their thing, visiting the Old World together – foreign culture by day and familiar comforts by night. Any break Leah had in her school calendar he was always ready to carry her across the ocean, showing her the world one city at a time.

Germany had been next on the list, their last stop before responsibilities would call them back to Boston. His brother, who had apparently taken up collecting castles in recent years, had a property in the Black Forest and it had offered the perfect stop for Leah and Elijah's tour of the country.

A small, resident staff maintained it between visits and provided a fresh source of blood from the vein. For the few days they had stayed, however, Leah had rarely chosen to sample from the local delicacies. Certainly they had both been distracted by more intimate activities but he nevertheless should have noticed the red flag.

When he had questioned her about her feeding – incidentally, idly, with no real conviction in his ignorance – Leah had done as she had tried to do just now to him in the kitchen: cast her arms around his neck and charm all his worries away.

If only Hayley knew what had happened next, perhaps she would understand his concern.

_"I'm fine," Leah had convinced him, "I'm just not hungry."_

_He was checking them into their bed and breakfast, having moved on from their castle retreat. Leah leaned against the counter and watched as he signed the guestbook. They continued to wait for the clerk to return with their room key._

_"There are plenty of options here, Leah. Have some strudel or a servant girl - my dear, I just want to see you eat something."_

_"I'm on vacation, Elijah. I want to spend my time seeing the sights not… _eating the locals_," Leah whispered. She leaned in close in case anyone might overhear. "Anyway, we'll be in __Tübingen__ tomorrow. I'll just wait until we get into town and then raid the blood bank. It won't be a chore if we do it together."_

_Elijah dotted the i's in his name and proceeded to sign her name next to his. Finishing, he set down the pen and turned to face her directly. _

_"Leah," he warned lightly, "the longer you wait the harder it will be."_

_"You said the same thing about learning German," she teased, "and I showed you, _oder nicht_?"_

_Elijah nodded appreciatively to the desk attendant as she slid him the key across the counter. He then turned back to Leah, his open gentility now replaced with a more pointed tone of voice. _

_"You have two choices. Make one and then let's not waste time on this discussion anymore."_

_Leah frowned; that was Elijah's polite way of saying he was tired of repeating himself._

_"Fine," she relented, trying to keep the peace. "I'll eat something - later - but for now can we please throw our bags in the room and just go do something fun?"_

_The rest of the evening had passed most enjoyably but in the middle of the night Elijah had awoken to find the other side of the bed empty. __He rolled over, called her name, got up and searched; Leah was nowhere in the room._

_He had not immediately panicked. It was not unusual for her to wander off, especially in hotels. Perhaps, he had reasoned, Leah was simply in the kitchen compelling the staff to make her a grilled cheese at 4am – it would certainly not be the first time._

_She was indeed in the kitchen, but __Elijah had to push the first body aside simply to open the door. Three more of the staff were piled up carefully against the far wall; blood pooled around them and seeped into open drains._

_None of them were yet dead - which made their casual discarding all the more disturbing. Stepping further into the kitchen Elijah moved around the storage shelving until the pile of bodies came into open view. Their heartbeats were faint and everywhere ugly wounds: on their necks, on their wrists, on the back of the shoulder. _

_Two others lay sprawled across the small kitchen. One woman still had a knife in her hand; the pastry chef had almost made it to the door. _

_The stove was still lit; eggs stewed in their pot and the water hissed and cackled as it boiled unattended – and there was Leah, on the floor, on her knees, oblivious to anything but her task. _

_He called her name but she didn't seem to hear it, to recognize it. With a dishtowel in hand she was busy scrubbing the evidence of her slaughter from the walls. _

_There was blood on her knees, on her shirt, and on her hands. He stepped through the red streams to reach her. _

_"Leah…" he called out again. "Leah – what have you done?"_

_"I'll clean it up," she snapped back, wiping her cheek with the back of her stained hand. Where there had been tears was now only a streak of blood; it accentuated the feral look in her eyes as she continued her frantic attempt to wipe up the wall. "I…I'm sorry. I've made a huge mess but just give me a minute and I'll clean it up."_

_A huge mess? A huge understatement. _

_Elijah surveyed the carnage, gesturing to the walls in disbelief._

_"The walls, Leah? The walls are the least of your concern."_

_"I've got it," she shouted, throwing the soaked towel aside and standing up to pull a fresh one down from above her. Immediately, she returned to wiping down the blood-splatted wall. _

_She was fixating, he realized – she had lost control and was now trying to reclaim it. She didn't realize the inefficiency of her actions because she was in shock. __Reasoning with Leah now would be a useless endeavor. He needed to just get her out of here – away from this. Stepping in closer, Elijah offered her his hand._

_"Leah, come away, please, come away now."_

_She looked up at him with large wild eyes and Elijah clearly saw the terror in them – she was afraid, of what he wasn't quite sure. Their usual clear blue had clouded over from the over-feeding; drunk was what she was, off an immense amount of blood. Simply getting her upstairs was going to be a struggle. _

_When he moved in closer Leah backed away, throwing herself against the wall and brandishing the blood-soaked towel at him._

_"I'm not done, Elijah! I need to clean everything up. This…this was not supposed to happen…"_

_She was back at the wall, pushing the blood across it like paint on a canvas. There was no point to her being here any longer; Leah wasn't helping anything. Elijah watched her in tense silence for a moment before spinning around to catalog exactly what she had done and exactly what he would need to do._

_Once he had her safely upstairs he would need to work quickly. It was almost dawn; the world would be waking soon. _

_"Leah - we need to go. I will take care of this - all of it -__ but first I need you to come back upstairs – "_

_"No!" she screamed, dropping the towel as if she had frightened herself with the sound of her own voice. Her hands, now empty, were coated in blood and Leah stared down at them for a long moment before turning her eyes toward him._

_"Please," she muttered, wiping her hands down the front of her nightdress, "don't be upset with me - this was an accident. I didn't mean for this to happen, Elijah, so you can't be mad at me."_

_"Mad? Leah, I'm—"_

_He sighed, stopping himself from speaking his mind. It would not help the situation. Elijah crushed the palm of his hand to his temple as he considered his next move. He did not mean to be harsh with her but there was no other way. _

_"Come away from the wall," he commanded her, so sternly she actually did. Like a newborn fawn Leah stepped toward him, uncertain and shaking, and he let her fall into his arms. _

_"You do not need to do this," he promised her. "I will do this for you…but you need to do something for me. "_

_He had coaxed her to return upstairs quickly and unseen and he himself set about the kitchen in similar haste._ _By the time Elijah had healed, compelled, and disposed of the necessary parties, he'd written off the events of the night as the inexperience of a new vampire. That was what she was, after all, barely five years a hybrid; her natural carelessness and propensity for overindulgence had only been heightened with her transformation. _

_Still, this felt like something his Leah would never have done. _

_Fresh-faced and damp-haired from her shower she now sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as she nervously waited for him to return. _

_She stood as the door opened, immediately rushing forward. _

_"Elijah, you're back. You're – "_

_The sight of him had stopped her in the middle of the room. Elijah looked down at his own appearance, realizing nothing he wore had survived the cleanup. The front of his collared shirt was still damp with water and dark crimson stains began at the cuffs and snaked up his white-clothed arms. _

_His shirt, however, was the only casualty of the night. _

_"It is done," he announced, closing the door behind him._

_"I am…so sorry," Leah muttered, stepping forward to apologize. He didn't seem to want to hear it – or perhaps he had already accepted it. She trailed behind him as he made directly for the en suite, pausing in the bathroom doorway to watch him at the sink. _

_"Elijah, I really am sorry. I don't know what happened down there."_

_"Yes, what did happen?" he managed to ask evenly, turning to her as he began to unbutton the cuffs of his ruined shirt with frustrated fingers. Leah no longer seemed affected by the bloodlust and perhaps now with her new clarity of mind she could finally shed some light on the situation. _

_"I…I was hungry," she began carefully, "and I went to see if I could get an early breakfast and – I don't know. I can barely even remember, it just happened."_

_He started now on the buttons of his shirt, beginning at the top and working his way down as he kept his eyes on her intensely. She took his silence for unvoiced disapproval. Looking down at her feet Leah shuffled anxiously in the doorway. _

_"You're mad at me. Please don't be mad at me."_

_"Leah - anger is the last emotion I could ever feel for you. Right now I am simply concerned - this has never happened before."_

_He turned away from her, leaning over the sink to wash the dried blood from his hands. __"I know you and I know you can control yourself when you feed. I simply don't know what happened in that kitchen."_

_"But I don't know either, Elijah. Something came over me down there. It didn't even hit me until I came back to the room and then I realized…and then I realized what I'd…"_

_He turned around instantly upon hearing the tremble in her voice. Her heart was beating so fast he could hear the sound of it over the running water. Turning off the faucet, Elijah came to stand before her, framing the side of her face as he bought his hand around the curve of her cheek._

_"Everyone lived, Leah. Tonight is not a burden you need to carry with you any longer – but we can't have it happen again."_

_She nodded confidently, but tears had already begun to form in the corners of her eyes. He pulled her to him, holding her as she cried._

_"I don't know what happened. That wasn't me."_

_"I tried to tell you this morning—as a vampire you must feed regularly or there are consequences."_

_"Elijah, I can do better." _

_"I want more than just better for you, Leah._ _I never wanted what happened down there to happen to you. You were lucky this time. I won't be able to bear to see you suffer the one time you are not."_

He was jarred from his thoughts as Leah yanked the keys from his hand.

"No way," she stared him down, "am I letting Hayley drive. I've got this one, Elijah. You can trust me."

He nodded in agreement, leaning in to kiss her cheek before sending her on her way. As the last traces of the memory of Germany faded Elijah told himself Leah was right - he should trust her.

"Okay –" Hayley spoke up from the foyer, a list in hand, "any more requests before we go? I've got sage, salt, candles, Pop-Tarts, marshmallows…I should probably throw some actual food on that list but whatever."

"Add shampoo," Rebekah threw out, coming down the stairs, "and soap. I don't care if we're in the woods, I refuse to smell like an animal."

Hayley added it all to the list. She was already planning to pick up a cake as well so her daughter's birthday wasn't a complete disaster. Hope was now pulling dresses and blouses from one of the few suitcases they had managed to throw together before fleeing.

"Can you bring my sweatshirt in when you return, Leah? I think I left it in the car."

"You got it," she chirped, slipping out the door with a wave toward Elijah.

Before Hayley could follow, he delayed her departure with a hand on her arm. Elijah raised a finger to his lips, gesturing outside where Leah was now starting up the car.

"Can you keep an eye on her," he whispered. "Please. For me."

Hayley didn't see the reason for his request. Wasn't Klaus supposed to be the paranoid, domineering brother?

"She'll be fine, Elijah. You buddy up with Klaus and just worry about getting us home."


	8. Love in the Time of Cholera

In the days that followed the seven unexpected travelers struggled to settle into their new life on the run from Mikael. A certain amount of peace had been granted by the remoteness of the safe house and the protective spell on the door and so for the moment the biggest threat to the family's well being appeared to be themselves.

The first issue was one of space. With Klaus and Elijah at the planning table day and night, Rebekah and Philippe had been granted the master bedroom and Leah and Hope each had a twin bed in the smaller one. Hayley floated in and out, an ever-present specter constantly hounding the brothers about their progress.

In such close quarters, cabin fever soon spread. There was no privacy, no solitude, and nothing to do all day but step on toes and tread on nerves. It hadn't helped that Klaus at first refused to let anyone even leave the house.

The universe, however, was never meant to support so many Mikaelsons under one roof.

Soon Hayley was tripping over Hope, Elijah wanted to throttle Niklaus, and Rebekah and Leah argued loudly over the last of the shampoo from which Philippe came out worse for wear for finding it all extremely amusing.

At last Hayley told Klaus he had been overruled; if he disagreed he could come find everyone outside and yell at them there.

While the ability to breathe the fresh air had dissolved some of the growing tension the second major issue was one of food. After unloading the cars they had spread everything on the table in the living room and tallied their supplies:

1 cooler of blood bags left over from Elijah and Leah's trip down from Boston;

1 bag of gummy bears which Hope immediately claimed;

and 2 bottles of water that had been rolling around under the seat of Klaus' car (for years he calculated).

Hayley and Leah had gone grocery shopping on that first day but without a refrigerator their choices had been limited: lots of peanut butter and jelly, grain alcohol, and Pop-Tarts. While the Mikaelson siblings would gladly starve before ever touching any of it, Leah had been eager enough to make herself a sandwich – that was until Klaus decided that all the food items were to be rationed solely for Hope and Philippe.

This meant that the five vampires had been surviving on a diet of blood bags and vodka for three days straight.

Which bought Elijah to his third issue: the cooler was almost empty. Even if they rationed them they would run out of blood bags sooner than he would have liked. The nearest hospital with a blood bank was over two hours away and if Mikael was searching for them he would simply have to scour the news reports for a massive quantity of missing blood.

Elijah closed the lid to the cooler as Hayley entered the kitchen.

"Wonderful, impeccable timing. Do you have a moment?"

"Not like I have anything else to do," she replied flatly. Grabbing the bottle of vodka from the counter, she lined up two tiny shot glasses and poured down the row. "This better be about this master plan Klaus has been going on about all day."

"No. It is not."

"Oh," she frowned, downing her first drink. "Then one second."

She threw back the other, clinking the empty glass against the counter top.

"Okay, I'm ready now. What's up?"

"It's about the provisions."

"Ah, you mean the alcohol," Hayley nodded, shaking the bottle at him. "I know – this one's nearly empty and if you remember Klaus had an entire bottle for dinner last night."

"Yes, my brother appears to be under a tremendous amount of stress."

"With Mikael out there Klaus thinks his own shadow's out to get him."

"Which is why I have taken it upon myself to manage the other concerns of this household." He stepped closer to her, resting a hand on the counter. "Hayley, I'm concerned that we are running out of blood bags. The cooler's almost empty."

"Oh, yeah," she nodded, filling up her glass again. "I noticed that the other day too."

"You mean yesterday? You haven't had one since then?"

"Nope - I'm laying off for a bit. Thought I should do my part to make them last a little longer, see if I can go two or three days without one – hence the vodka. I'm sublimating."

"Is it working?"

She simply laughed, filling both the glasses once more and emptying the bottle entirely.

"I see," Elijah frowned.

"There's a forest full of Bambi's out there," Hayley assured him. "It's not like we're gonna starve if we run out of blood bags."

"I'd rather not have you, or Leah, or any of us roaming far from the house."

"Yeah - how is Leah handling this whole restricted diet thing?"

"That was actually what I wished to speak with you about. I don't know."

"You don't know something about Leah? Wow - not sure if that even surprises me anymore."

Elijah shifted suddenly and fell into a defensive stance.

"My attentions this week have been - divided. I've simply not had a chance to ask her. If you remember Niklaus and I have been working tirelessly on a plan to take down our father."

"Does this plan actually exist if no one else knows about it?"

Elijah frowned; she had a point.

"The plan, _Hayley_, is to fully assess the situation before acting."

"And how are you _assessing_ anything when we don't even have electricity, let alone Wi-Fi or cell service."

"My brother and I have our networks. We've been trying to communicate with those still in the Quarter. Progress, however, has been...slow."

"Too slow," she muttered, finishing off the second shot.

"Perhaps I am over thinking the issue," he conceded. "I don't foresee us staying here much longer; this house was only meant to be a temporary haven. If the cooler runs out before we move on then Leah and I will simply have to take a drive."

"Yeah, that reminds me — why _did_ you want someone to go into town with her the other day?"

"Wasn't it obvious? Mikael–"

"–if you really thought Mikael was hanging around small town Pennsylvania, Elijah, you'd have gone with her yourself."

"I simply did not wish her to be alone."

"Like I don't know you, Elijah? You don't simply do anything. You were afraid Leah was going to get into some sort of trouble on her own, weren't you?"

He struggled to explain the situation to Hayley without betraying his confidence with Leah. As Hayley tossed the empty glasses in the sink Elijah followed her, turning on the faucet so the sound of running water would cover the sound of their conversation. He didn't want Leah upstairs knowing he was talking about her down here in the kitchen.

"Leah has become - inconsistent - with her feeding habits."

"Why are you saying that like she has cancer or something?"

"I don't know," he sighed, not realizing the despondency in his own voice. He tried to justify it. "The matter has been weighing on me a great deal, this on top of the situation with Mikael."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

"That's why I've come to you, to ask if this is normal."

"Normal?" she laughed. "In this family?"

"Hayley—" he begged her indulgence. "Should I be concerned about Leah's feeding?"

"Well, I don't know, Elijah. Don't you know these things? You're the vampire with a thousand year's experience."

"But I'm not a hybrid, Hayley."

She glared at him, offended.

"You don't have to make it sound like we're from a different planet or something."

"Hayley, I don't mean to go down this road with you again. You must forgive my…desperation. I simply hoped to benefit from the value of your perspective."

"Well, I really don't have an answer for you, Elijah. Honestly, it's likely nothing and you probably just missed her grabbing a bag. I mean, I assume you two aren't actually with each other every single second of the day."

"Exactly my point. Niklaus is requiring more of my time daily. I can't be with Leah as much as I would like and I do not wish to approach her solely based on groundless supposition."

"But you have a feeling?" Hayley pushed him, "because your feelings are usually right."

"I have a suspicion, yes."

"Did you try, I don't know, maybe just asking her what's up?"

"No," he admitted flatly.

"Then that's my advice. Where is she now?"

"With Hope."

Hayley frowned, turning off the faucet to cut the stream of water.

"She's not upstairs, Elijah. I can hear Hope with Rebekah but Leah's not in the house."

An urgent uneasiness settled over the Original. He burst through the archway into the living room. Hope was just coming down the stairs, a half-eaten granola bar in hand. She noticed Elijah and her mother near the kitchen.

"Mom, why do all these granola bars have bits of apple in them? You know I hate apples - whoa, what's happened?"

"Hope, do you know where Leah is?"

"No," she answered her uncle, wondering why he sounded so upset. "She said earlier she needed some air though. She's been pretty stir crazy all morning."

"Leah should tell someone if she leaves the house," Hayley reminded everyone.

"Well, dad and Philippe are out there discussing something," Hope gestured with her granola bar. "Maybe Leah's out there with them?"

"Do you know that for sure?" Hayley pushed.

"No…I don't know…is something wrong?"

Elijah left Hayley to answer Hope, speeding out onto the porch. The storm door slammed shut behind him.

"Leah!" he called.

Both the cars were still here.

"Leah!"

There were no other cabins within miles and the road was nearly half an hour away.

"Leah!" he tried again, now several steps out onto the yard. _"Leah!"_

"Hey, hey, stop shouting, I'm right here."

She broke the tree line, stepping into the clearing. Leah approached him with a spring in her step but he rounded on her with stern sobriety.

"Where have you been?" he asked hastily, startling her with his outburst.

"Around," she answered defensively. "Just around."

"I was worried," he admitted, tempering his tone. "Please tell me when you leave the house. You shouldn't be out here alone."

"Sorry...didn't mean to break the Camp Mikaelson curfew."

He squared off against her, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"We are not here to enjoy ourselves, Leah - Mikael is hunting us. This is a situation of the utmost gravity and I wish you would consider it such."

"Okay, well, I was just out there and I can tell you there's nothing and no one for miles so... don't think Mikael's gonna find us anytime soon. Relax, Elijah."

She tried to walk past him but he grabbed her arm, immediately letting go when he saw the surprise on her face. His actions had been sudden and his grip firmer than he intended.

"Leah, please - I just want to know. Where have you been?"

She was staring at her arm where he had grabbed it. When she looked at him her eyes were defiant and he knew he had lost any chance of getting an easy answer from her.

"I already said. _Around."_

"Tell me you weren't out looking for campers to feed on."

She scowled, shoving her hands into Hope's sweatshirt angrily.

"Is that against camp rules too?"

"If you are out there wandering alone then you are looking for trouble – the last thing we need."

"Wow - no need to overdramatize it. I was hungry so I went looking for something to eat. That's it. Not all of us can live off vodka shots for a week."

"We bought the blood bags with us for a reason."

"We didn't bring them with us, Elijah, they were in the car when we _fled. _There's a difference. Stop acting like any of this was planned – there is no plan. No one knows what's going on, so get off your high horse because you're just as clueless as the rest of us."

"This is not the first time my siblings and I have run, Leah. Do not underestimate what I know and you do not."

Elijah immediately regretted his words. Like every time they had argued in the past, he had said something wrong that was somehow still right. They had fought like this many times before, fierce yet fleeting and just as soon forgotten. Peace was all they wanted in their lives; both Elijah and Leah eagerly preferred to make love than war. Nothing they had ever fought about had been worth pushing the delicate curve of their relationship past its breaking point.

Still, in Leah's face Elijah saw the cracks.

"Forgive me," he reached out, yearning to touch her. "I was simply worried about you."

"Then spare us both," she backed away, "and find yourself a new hobby."

Brushing past him, Leah marched across the yard and jogged up the porch steps. Elijah could only watch as she disappeared inside the cabin, left alone to contemplate how he had allowed any of this to happen.

\

Leah tossed in her empty bed, rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling. The voices downstairs had woken her.

Klaus and Elijah had been at the table all night planning the family's next move. There was clearly no consensus; Leah could hear the brothers' frustrated arguing with her vampire hearing. Elijah was using the same tone with his brother now that he had with her earlier this afternoon, that mix of condescension and frustration which he coated in an obsessive concern for those he cared for most.

She could do without it. Klaus sounded like he could too.

Leah was willing to accept that was one more trait she and Klaus shared – in addition to the whole being a hybrid thing of course. However, sharing such a tiny cabin with Elijah's brother was the last thing Leah was willing to accept. On most days he was barely tolerable; with Mikael resurrected Klaus' paranoia had made him simply impossible to be around at all.

Leah loved Elijah; she had no love for his brother. There was a reason she had wanted to move far away from New Orleans.

Speaking of, her first time back to that city in a year and look what had happened. Was that the definition of ironic? It was certainly annoying. She should be back home preparing for her dissertation defense. She should be back home in her own bed with Elijah. She should be back home mixing her blood bags with coffee instead of feeding on college kids in the middle of a fucking forest.

A decent shower would be nice too.

Leah rolled over again, unable to fall asleep; her thoughts were so loud now they were keeping her awake. She closed her eyes, making a real effort to shut them out.

That's when she heard Hope crying.

_Oh, god, friend emergency._

Leah immediately cast her blanket aside and slipped out of bed. Pattering across the room in the dark, she crawled in next to her friend under the covers.

Hope turned over to face her new bedfellow, rubbing her eyes as she gazed at Leah across the pillow.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled. "I didn't mean to wake you. I'm not actually crying, I'm just…I've stopped now."

"No need to explain," Leah understood completely. "And don't worry I was already awake. Elijah and your dad are going at it downstairs about what to do about Mikael."

"I don't care what we do. I just want to go home."

"I know, I do too - but unfortunately that doesn't look like something that's gonna happen overnight. Look - sorry I kinda left you alone today. I feel like we haven't really had the chance to really talk since we got here. I've been – distracted, but I'm all yours now. So…if you want to tell me what you were _not_ crying about I'm here to listen."

Hope managed a smile, wiping the last of her tears from her face.

"I miss him."

"Aidan?" she asked, although it was hardly necessary. "Right, Aidan."

"I'm scared, Leah. I'm scared Mikael went after the wolves."

"One vampire against Aidan and the pack? Hope, you have nothing to worry about."

"Then why won't he answer? Why hasn't he called?"

"Do you even get service out here?"

"Yes – a bit - if I climb onto the roof."

"Jeez, Hope, for real? God, don't let your dad find out what you're doing. Don't even let him know you have that phone on you."

"It's not like I'm calling anyone we can't trust. Just Aidan – and like I said he hasn't been answering. I just keep getting his away message."

Leah reached out her hand, running it down Hope's arm and giving her a sympathetic squeeze at the elbow.

"Then keep leaving him messages. I know he'll listen to every one as soon as he can."

"Slight problem," Hope was embarrassed to admit. "My phone's dead. That's what got me all upset."

She reached under her pillow to pull it forth, placing it in the space between them on the bed.

"I went to check the time a moment ago and it wouldn't turn on. I mean, I knew the battery was dying but…I don't know why a dead phone made me start crying. I just… panicked for some reason."

Leah knew why. Connections were important - and Hope's phone was all she had now to connect her to Aidan. As much as it felt that Elijah had become distant over the last week, distracted by Mikael and his brother and the plan for his family's escape – at least he was here, just downstairs, Leah could hear his voice right now letting her know he was safe – alive.

One drained battery and Hope had lost her only chance to know the same about Aidan.

"I'm sure we can charge it," she tried to console Hope.

"_With what?_ A hand-crank? There's no electricity out here, Leah. And I don't know about you but my phone charger was not the first thing I thought to bring with me when we fled New Orleans."

Leah chewed on her lip, thinking back on where she had been today and formulating a plan. She grabbed Hope's phone, shoving it under her own pillow.

"Let me borrow it tomorrow. I think I can work a miracle."

"You can charge it?"

"I think I know _where_ I can charge it, but I'm gonna have to break some rules to wing it."

"Leah, don't get in trouble on my behalf."

"Trust me, there's no better reason. Just do me one favor: if your dad – or Elijah – starts freaking out because they can't find me for an hour or so tomorrow - cover for me. I'm gonna need some time to get out there and get your phone charged. Just make some shit up and then I'll take all the blame once I get back."

"Thank you, Leah, but I'm no good at lying so try to be quick." Hope yawned, pulling the blanket up around them. "Maybe they won't even notice you were gone."

"Elijah will notice. Just leave him to me."


	9. The Girl Who Played With Fire

**Thank you everyone for the wonderful reviews - I will be posting a second chapter later today to show my appreciation!**

"Jesus H. Christ _that hurts."_

Leah groaned in pain as she pulled the stake from her leg. She dropped it on the forest floor, wiping her bloody hand on her pant leg. Her shirt had already been shredded but now there was a large hole in her jeans as well.

She stuck a finger into the damaged denim. The skin underneath was already healing.

"Can we lay off the jeans? This is the only pair I've got with me."

"Then put some effort into it," Hayley goaded her. "I can't stake you if you don't let me."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just go at it again."

The two hybrids squared off once more, both with makeshift stakes at the ready. Leah spared a glance toward Elijah on the porch; she hoped he was watching this time and not the hundred times before when Hayley had bested her.

Hope was quite content in her role as spectator. After all, she could always just set a person on fire if she ever needed to defend herself. And besides, she fancied herself too delicate for such hand-to-hand maneuvers. She wasn't fond of working up a sweat and didn't believe in running unless someone was chasing her.

Which someone was: Mikael.

So while the boys plotted their campaign from the shade of the porch, the women of the house were preparing for battle. Rebekah sat next to Hope on the sidelines.

"Your technique is lazy, Leah. My money's on Hayley."

Hope ducked as one of the practice stakes went flying over her head. She was regretting coming outside altogether but could admit she needed the perspective - just this morning she had snapped at Philippe for eating the last of the Pop-Tarts.

Largely for the sake of his own sanity it was Elijah who had recommended that everyone find inspiration in the calm serenity of nature and kindly get the hell out of the house.

Thus Hope was now sitting around the fire pit, scribbling in a spiral notebook, the grunts and groans of Hayley and Leah sparring as background noise. This mortal combat idea had been Rebekah's and though her aunt wasn't much for roughhousing herself she was an excellent coach.

"Come on, Leah, what are you doing? Stop turning your back on her!"

Only Hope noticed that Elijah and Klaus had stopped conversing and were now intent on watching the duel in the clearing.

_"Jeez,_" Leah winced. Hayley had caught her again with the stake. "Mind the neck - we're not aiming to kill. At least I'm not."

She made a rush forward but found herself flat on her back – again – with Hayley kneeling over her.

"Nice try, Leah, but the only way to kill a hybrid is to rip out the heart or take off the head... meaning I can stake you all I want, _especially_ if you're just gonna lie there and not defend yourself."

"She's got a point," Rebekah shrugged.

Leah rolled out from under Hayley's next attack. Realizing her own stake had rolled several feet out of reach, she had to think quickly on her feet, looking around the tree-lined clearing for something to use as a weapon...

She was ready with the branch when Hayley turned around. With both hands she thrust forward.

_"What the fuck, Leah?!"_

So deeply had the branch gone through Hayley's middle that it remained embedded in its target even after Leah let go. Hope immediately threw her notebook aside, rising in a rush to race over to help. She glared at Leah as she helped her mother up from the ground.

"Was that really necessary? Did you have to choose such a huge stick?"

"Was it _necessary_? That's the point! I'm supposed to hit my target!"

"And I'd score that a 6 out of 10," Rebekah added, "but that's me being generous."

Hayley was now gingerly pulling out the branch an inch at a time.

"Oh, god - I think that's my liver."

"_Oh come on_," Leah whined, throwing up her arms. "I got you once - once! You've stabbed me like fifty times! My clothes have the holes to prove it - this shirt was white when we started - and it actually resembled something that could be called a shirt."

"I staked you with a _chopstick_," Hayley grumbled, yanking out the rest of the branch and casting it aside. The wound was already healing but the injury to her dignity was not so easily mended.

Still, Leah felt she deserved at least a little appreciation for her accomplishment.

"Come on, Rebekah, tell me that was super cool."

"It's 'super cool' until you're actually fighting for your life. Not everything is fun and games, Leah."

"This is so unfair..." she gave up, turning suddenly toward the applause coming from the porch.

"Brava, sweetheart," Klaus continued to clap. "I at least was entertained by your theatrics. For once, I might add."

Leah flushed to realize Elijah and his brother had been watching her spar - she hadn't exactly been the embodiment of grace and dexterity. Embarrassed, she kept her head down and busied herself gathering up the assortment of chopsticks and pencils that she and Hayley had been using as practice stakes.

Coming to her feet, Rebekah frowned up at her brother.

"Your commentary is unnecessary, Nik."

"As is this little project of yours, sister. Are you planning to start a militia and go after Mikael yourself?"

"No harm in being prepared," Hayley jumped in, "since if you remember some of us don't do the whole 'damsel in distress' thing."

"Princesses have people to protect them for a reason," Klaus reminded her, looking to their daughter as he spoke.

"Oh, I wouldn't underestimate them, Niklaus, only a fool would."

Elijah looked right at Leah as he said it. The sight of her torn and bloodied clothing made him uneasy and despite his words he agreed with his brother: he didn't want Leah anywhere near a fight with Mikael.

"Let us all hope none of my lovely warriors are ever needed," he added although his eyes were still only on Leah. Klaus scoffed at how obvious his brother was being. It was nauseating how much he fawned over that girl.

The hybrid decided he couldn't stomach it a second longer.

"Hayley, love, looks like you could use a break. Care to join me in the main room for a victory drink?"

Leah handed Hayley the stakes with a triumphal flourish and she all but snatched them up before following Klaus inside. Rebekah stood up as Philippe emerged from the cabin. He was not, however, here for her.

"Elijah, did you need to see me?"

"Yes," he confirmed, finally turning his eyes aside. He motioned back through the doorway, "but let us discuss this inside."

Rebekah frowned. Elijah was clearly trying to block her out of an important conversation. Turning to Hope and Leah, she imparted some final advice before heading toward the cabin herself.

"You see that? Don't let them do that to you—shut you out like that."

"Rebekah, where you going?" Hope asked.

"To stick my nose where it's not wanted. That's the only way you'll ever learn anything around here."

The two friends now found themselves alone in the yard.

"So..." Leah turned on Hope, "you weren't even a _little_ impressed by my awesome staking skills?"

"I can't really condone you stabbing people with trees," she admitted dryly, "especially my mother. I will however say 'thank you' - for this."

Hope slipped the now-working phone from the front pocket of her sweatshirt, waving it at her friend before quickly hiding it from view again. Leah beamed, thrilled to have been able to help.

"Did Elijah pitch a fit when I was gone?"

"Not sure he noticed. Dad had him going through maps all morning."

Leah found this odd, if not a little disappointing. She had been gone for over an hour - surely Elijah hadn't gone ten minutes without wondering where she was...

"And still no answer from Aidan?" she continued otherwise.

"No," Hope said sadly, looking down at her notebook. "I've started writing him letters instead. Maybe I can send them when we find a mailbox."

Leah sat down on the log beside Hope.

"Oh, so that's what you were writing. I thought you were just keeping score. I wanted to see how many points I had."

"You really can't let that go, can you?"

"No," Leah smiled, though it quickly faded away. "I really am trying though – to make myself useful. I don't want to feel like some dead weight being dragged along on your family vacation."

"One - this is not a vacation in any definition of the word and two - you don't see them inviting me to the planning table either. You'd think I had glass for bones from the way my parents always try to keep me a million miles away from anything remotely dangerous."

"Maybe that's just a thing all parents do? I don't know…never really had them. Easy solution though: once all of this is over move away from New Orleans. There's plenty of danger out there just for you, Hope, and no one to tell you otherwise."

"I can't leave my parents, Leah."

"Most people do - when they're eighteen."

"Well, I'm not a hybrid like you. I haven't come into my abilities. I don't know if I'd want to be out in the world with no way to protect myself."

"You don't know because you've never tried – and you _can_ protect yourself. You can set stuff on fire."

"That's all I can do."

"It's a helluva lot more than most people. You owe it to yourself to trust in yourself. Since I've known you, Hope, you've never needed your parents to fight your battles for you. Here, get up. Show me what you've got."

Leah gestured to the fire pit with an expectant wave.

Hope frowned. She hated preforming on command; her dad liked to show her off at dinner parties sometimes, making her light the candelabras around the table for sport. He would never let her use her powers for anything useful like defending herself. He would never let her get anywhere near a fight.

It was hard, however, to say no to her best friend. Jumping to her feet, Hope rolled her wrist toward the pit. A moment later, it erupted in an explosion of flame. The fire roared high for another second before dying out slowly like a wilting flower.

"I love when you do that," Leah sighed happily.

"Well, I don't perform for free. It's gonna cost you," Hope teased. "So come on, Leah, teach me something in return."

"What, like the piano?"

"No, like a move… a fighting move. Like if Mikael attacks – teach me something I could use."

"Yeah, okay," Leah laughed, standing. She was having trouble believing Hope wanted to do anything that might involve ruffling those curls any further. "Okay, well let me see: what's a good lesson…"

Pretending to think with a finger to her lips, Leah used the time to circle around Hope. Despite the age difference, she remained the taller of the two. Hope felt as if a jaguar was circling her: sleek and powerful yet elegantly proportioned.

While Hope's life has been one of a princess in a castle, Leah had grown up in an orphanage; fighting with the other kids must have been a way of life. With her high ponytail, ripped sleeves and bare shoulders, Leah looked like some tough street kid, ready to steal your heart and your lunch money at the same time.

No wonder her uncle was madly in love with her.

"What are you doing?" Hope asked, watching with a skeptical frown as Leah continued to pace.

"Trying to find your weak spot."

"My weak spot? What am I, a rotting floor? Hoping to hear a creak?"

"No - you're a witch. A witch who uses her hands to do magic, ergo, your hands are your weapons. So if I want to remove you as a threat...I need to remove your hands."

In a flash Leah had pinned Hope's arms behind her back, firmly holding both wrists in one hand with her supernatural strength. She rested her chin in the curve of Hope's shoulder, flush against her back as she tightened her grip on her friend's captive hands.

Hope just stood there, unimpressed, trying her best not to laugh.

"Leah, what are you doing?"

"Proving a point."

"I can't move my hands, Leah."

"And that's the point. Without your hands you can't aim your magic at me. You're now useless and I've now won."

Hope couldn't hold it back any longer. She could barely form words she was laughing so hard.

_"Is that how you think magic works?"_

Leah pulled away, confused.

"Isn't it?"

"Well, isn't that lesson number one - know thy enemy?"

The attack was swift and sudden and Leah gasped in surprised. It felt like someone had shoved her hand in a fire. She immediately released her grip on Hope in a rush to inspect her burning fingers; her moonlight bracelet was glowing like a hot coil, the silver magically heated to a white orange. A few more seconds and the fine hairs on her arm were already singed as the pale skin underneath began to sear.

_"Christ,"_ Leah yelped, trying to slip the bracelet off her wrist without touching it. However, before she could wiggle out of the hot metal, the heat was gone, the silver had cooled, and her burned arm was already healing.

Clutching it to her chest, she raised her eyes towards her attacker.

"Point taken, Hope, that was just mean."

"Take that for ramming a branch into my mom - and for your ignorance. I don't need my hands to do magic, Leah! Where on earth did you get that idea? Sorry about the cheap trick but that's just what you get for doubting me."

"I was doubting your ability to be an independent adult, not your ability to do powerful magic. _Shit this hurts_."

Leah rubbed her wrist, realizing it was definitely time to call it quits for the day. Not only was she still sore from sparring with Hayley but she was super hungry and it was starting to make her lightheaded. Returning to her seat on the log, Leah pulled Hope down beside her.

"Well, kick me off the team - I'm clearly the most useless player here."

"Don't say that, Leah. That's how my dad sees people, not me. You're the _most_ useful because you're the only one who can make me smile. That's its own kind of magic."

"You're super cheesy, you know that?"

"I'm super right," Hope concluded, "and I know things are kinda crazy right now but at least you're here with me. I'm sorry for dragging you into all this, Leah. I'm sure there's a million other things you'd rather be doing than hanging out with my family."

"A million and one," Leah joked - sorta.

Hope turned toward her friend so their knees touched, resting her hands in her lap with a contemplative sigh.

"If it was just you and me, Leah, do you think we would be okay?"

"You and me where? Out here?"

"Out there…in the world on our own. Like if there was no one else, no mom, dad, Elijah, just us, we could do it right?"

Leah stared at the spot of dirt between her feet, suddenly very uncomfortable with the conversation.

"Well, sure. I guess. I'd think we'd be alright. Why are you asking?"

"Just in case the world is ending. I want you to be there with me."

"The world's not ending," she had to point out.

"If it were—"

"You wouldn't want me," Leah all but snapped. Hope sensed she had upset her friend and regretted even broaching the topic.

"I didn't mean to suggest something was going to happen to Elijah, or between you and Elijah…sorry, ignore me. I was just asking stupid questions."

Leah exhaled slowly, looking up from the ground to stare at the cabin.

"It's not a stupid question. You just like to plan for the future, I get it."

She nonetheless felt like changing the subject.

"And didn't anyone ever tell you not to think so much? Especially at your age, you'll give yourself wrinkles."

"Hey!" Hope howled in scandal. "For the last time, I am twenty-seven. I am not _that old."_

Leah leapt up from the log, pulling Hope up with her.

"Come on."

"What?"

"You're absolutely right, Hope. You're twenty-seven, technically I am too. We're both too old to be stuck at the kid's table. So let's go."

"Wait. Go where?"

"To stick our noses where they're not wanted."


	10. All Fall Down

On the eighth day the blood bags ran out.

Elijah was determined that this setback would not destroy the careful peace he had struggled to build over the past week. It was far from easy to balance his family under the same roof; like intricate designs drawn in dominoes, each of their lives was complicated, intertwined, and volatile - precarious. No matter how much work one dedicates to setting them up, a single wobble in the chain can set the whole line toppling in every direction.

By the end of the evening the first domino would fall.

It began with the empty cooler. In the morning when Elijah had put the last blood bag in Leah's hands, Klaus had shot down the idea of anyone leaving to refill the supply – alone or otherwise it was out of the question.

The argument between Klaus and Elijah on the matter had been so heated that everyone had fled to their own corner of the cabin to cool off. Only Hayley remained to demand that the brothers shut up and work together to finalize the details of this grand master plan. The sooner they were out of this park the sooner the empty cooler was no longer an issue.

\

Then there was the awkward conversation that _everyone_ overheard.

The brothers' argument downstairs had driven Leah upstairs; she had decided to take a shower in the meantime while they figured out their shit. Half an hour later, she was surprised, but not displeased, to run into Elijah.

"Hey stranger," Leah sang, stepping out of the bathroom and into the narrow hallway. Wrapped only in a towel and nothing else, she realized the moment was particularly reminiscent of their very first encounter. "What's up – I assume the lack of shouting is a good sign?"

"It appears Niklaus and I have come to a consensus - on one matter at least. We're having Philippe try a locator spell to find Mikael. Witches and their candles...I've come to retrieve some more."

He made to move around her in the narrow space but Leah stopped him, a hand on his chest, another holding tightly to her towel. She stepped in closer, her wet hair darkening the front of his shirt as she moved herself flush against him.

"You know, Elijah…Hope's out walking in the woods with her mom so the room's all mine if you feel like taking a break..."

It was a coy suggestion and Elijah smiled wistfully in acknowledgment. Nevertheless he ran a hand up her arm and leaned in to gently kiss her in apology.

"They're waiting for me downstairs."

"Let them wait," she frowned, stung by his rejection. "You've been down there with your brother day and night since we arrived. Can't you spare some time just for us?"

He placed his hand under her chin, tilting her head so their eyes met. His fingers lingered across her skin as he realized she was feeling neglected. It had never been his intention but it was true that for five years she had become used to always having his undivided attention and affection – which he gave both willingly and eagerly.

"Now is not a good time, my darling Leah - but perhaps we shall take a walk of our own later."

He leaned down to seal his promise but she turned her head and his kiss fell upon her cheek instead. He pulled away, wondering what he had said now.

"You just rain checked our relationship, Elijah."

He exhaled slowly, momentarily exasperated by her reluctance to compromise. He was nevertheless distracted even from his own agitation by the sight of her there before him, the towel such a feeble barrier between their bodies.

Stepping forward, Elijah eased her back against the wall, keeping the space between them nonexistent. A single bead of water slid down a strand of her copper hair; having escaped, it began to trail down her cheek and he traced its path with a feathery touch, ghosting his hand across her neck, over her collarbone, dipping low between her breasts…

He was most definitely not looking at her eyes when he spoke.

"None of this is ideal, Leah, but know that I want nothing more than to –"

They both turned. Philippe had appeared around the bend of the stairs.

"Oh-h," he sputtered awkwardly, "I didn't mean to…I just came to see about those candles."

Elijah's hand fell away from Leah. Stepping back, he found himself unsatisfied by the loss of contact between them.

"Right," he sighed, nodding at the witch. "The candles. Let Niklaus know I'll be right down with them."

Philippe was all too happy to back peddle down the staircase. When Elijah turned his attention back to Leah she had already sealed herself up behind the bedroom door.

\

An hour later and now Elijah stood in the living room as his brother smirked at him across the table; Klaus had clearly overheard his conversation with Leah in the upstairs hall. It hadn't helped that Elijah had returned downstairs sporting a damp shirt and a deep frown in addition to the candles.

"My, my, you certainly look _frustrated, _brother. May I recommend a revitalizing walk in the woods? A romp in the park perhaps…?"

Hayley smacked Klaus across the chest, bringing his attention back to the map that covered the table between them.

"Are you done being a dick or are we gonna try the spell again?"

"Well, since the last two failed I was actually considering a break before our next attempt. I think we could all use some time…_alone_…to collect ourselves, you know, relieve some of the _tension_…"

"Niklaus…the locator spell. Do try to focus."

Elijah would have gladly said something more pointed to shut his brother up for the fact that Leah had taken up residence in the armchair in the corner. She glared at Klaus; he'd been making increasingly inappropriate references to her earlier conversation with Elijah. If anything, it was more annoying that embarrassing.

"I've known children with more maturity than you," Leah said, rolling her eyes at Klaus.

"And did those children have the means to save you from Mikael?"

"Here's an idea: why don't we just get a giant Mikael-size mousetrap and use the White Oak stake as bait?"

Klaus ignored her reference to the stake and turned back to the large map of the United States sprawled across the table. Philippe had at last stopped his chanting and as the candles blew out everyone's attention turned toward the single drop of blood on the board, waiting expectantly for it to move.

It was just slightly more exciting than watching paint dry.

At last Philippe shook his head and everyone groaned – the spell had failed, again. With a deep sigh, Elijah spared Leah a glance, but distracted by the implications of the failed locator spell he ended up looking right through her.

She frowned, wondering if she had his attention.

"Maybe it's a sign we should move on, Elijah. Wouldn't it be easier to hide someplace more populated…with more resources perhaps? If you want suggestions, I hear Boston's nice this time of year…"

He leaned over the table, both hands on the edge, still staring down at the blob of his blood on the map. It had failed to move from their current location.

"We can't go back," he explained with a deep sigh, "to any of our known residences. My father is sure to have informants monitoring our homes. He likely has a witch working for him, cloaking him. That's why our spell's not working."

"Well, you know what's _near _Boston? Salem – we can pick up some witches of our own…not that you're not awesome Philippe."

"Leah," Klaus groaned, rubbing his temple, "do you have anything actually _useful _to offer?"

"No more than you – but then again I don't know what's going on and you do, so..."

When Hayley laughed at this Klaus found he no longer had any more patience for Leah. Elijah recognized the tick in his brother's jaw and tried to head off an open conflict.

"Leah – " he gently warned.

"What?" she bit back, "I'm trying to help so this planning can go faster and so that you and I can go home sooner."

"I doubt you can be of any use," Klaus muttered.

"Try me."

"Well, fine then. Leah - _do you know where one may acquire counterfeit travel documents?"_

"Travel documents - no, but if you're looking for other illegal things… "

Elijah shot Leah a pointed look and she spared them all the details.

"Okay, but then why does Philippe get to participate?" she sighed.

"Philippe is family," Klaus bluntly responded. "And indispensable."

"Well, screw you too," Leah threw back, leaping to her feet to approach the table all the same.

"Leah," Elijah interceded, trying to keep the peace. "Why don't you give us just a few more hours here and then you and I can take that walk?"

Her face flushed with hot humiliation - Elijah had outright and openly dismissed her. She backed away slowly from the others, her chest tightening as she realized five years had not been long enough to earn her a place at the Mikaelson table.

Turning, she silently retreated from the room, determined not to draw any more attention to herself. Not that it mattered; Elijah and the others were already preparing to attempt the spell again.

\

Thirty minutes later and the next locator spell had failed as well. Even using Rebekah's blood, Philippe had been unable to track the location of her father. This had everyone on edge; if they couldn't track Mikael then for all they knew he was on their doorstep now.

Klaus had demanded Philippe try again, but Rebekah, concerned that her brother was abusing his access to magic, quite loudly called it an evening for the two of them and protectively sequestered Philippe back upstairs despite her brother's equally loud objections.

"If you don't feel up to something," she told her husband once in their room, "just tell them. If they push back they will have me to answer to."

"Rebekah, I'm fine, just a little tired."

"This is so typical," she warned him. "Typical Klaus. When he perceives a threat he sees people as pawns. Don't let him use you like a tool, Philippe, that's not how you treat family."

"You have nothing to worry about, dear. If anything, Elijah is there to check his abuses."

"Elijah's distracted. If he's not staring at that damn map he has his eyes on Leah. I don't know what it is exactly, but there's something going on between them."

Philippe thought he knew but also he knew it wasn't his place to gossip.

"It's probably just the pressure of our predicament, _ma chérie. _Stress can bring out the worse even in the best of us, Rebekah. A little optimism will go a long way - this too shall pass."

"Not bloody soon enough. We were never meant to be dragged into this, Philippe. Klaus has Elijah – and Hayley. He doesn't need you too. I won't risk your life against Mikael. Once I'm sure my brothers have a plan in place, I am getting you out of here. Both of us."

\

Hayley had taken a break to check on Hope but was now back downstairs, perched on the edge of the couch as she watched Elijah and Klaus converse quietly over the map. When she realized it was five o'clock and they had been at the table since nine, she leapt up to demand answers.

"That's it, time for results. You two said you would come to a final decision today. It's today – so what's the plan?"

She came around Klaus and Elijah, poking her head between the brothers as they bent over the dining room table.

"The plan is to stay here," Klaus announced, tapping the table twice with a knuckle, "…until I say otherwise."

"That's not a plan," she pointed out, face to face with Klaus. "If you want to hide, let's at least hide in a city where there's something to eat besides squirrels."

"Hayley has a point, Niklaus," Elijah agreed, moving around the table as he rolled up the map. "Let us leave here today and resettle someplace with more resources. Even if we had a plan to fight our father, this is no base to launch an attack."

Klaus swung out from under Hayley's harsh gaze, folding his hands in a gesture of contemplation as he took a seat on the sofa.

"I don't understand," he admitted anxiously. "I've sent a message through my network but there's silence from the Quarter. I'm afraid to think of what Mikael's done to our beloved city and I am hesitant to move until we know his location."

"Look," Hayley blustered, pacing around the room, "I get that you don't want us driving into a trap, but we can't stay here. All we have is what we bought with us when we fled. I've been wearing the same clothes – for days, none of us have our phones, I'm not sure the water is safe for Hope to drink and I doubt Philippe's too fond of shacking up in a house full of hungry vampires."

"Point taken," Klaus yielded. "Still, no one leaves until I say so."

"Until _you_ say so?" Hayley challenged him. "I've accepted that the boys club has taken the lead on planning this family outing since it's your daddy who wants us all dead, but shouldn't Rebekah at least get a vote then? Someone needs the power to veto your crap ideas."

"Rebekah," Klaus thundered, "does not have a strong record of making the best decisions, despite her best intentions. But Philippe - now that one has some good ideas. Let Rebekah be content enough to watch over Hope – she was always most agreeable to it in the past."

"Niklaus," Elijah cautioned, his reminder not at all gentle, "you will mind your words in regard to our sister. Everyone under this roof is an irreplaceable part of this family. We do not exclude anyone."

A sly smirk grew across Klaus' face.

"Don't you worry, big brother," he grinned. "Rest assured, if Mikael comes knocking, I won't throw Leah to the wolves…or should I say under _the bus_?"

Hayley noticed Elijah's arm tense as he resisted the urge to punch his brother.

"You are the last person who has any right to judge her, Niklaus, and I would prefer if you keep the past in the past."

Klaus laughed roughly, enjoying the entertainment his brother has provided him today.

"You have me all wrong brother, I aim to commend. But as you wish, mum's the word."

Hayley looked carefully between them, trying to read between the lines of their conversation.

"I don't get it. What don't I know?"

"Another time," Klaus deflected generously. "Right now, we need to round up everyone and let them know: I've just decided. We're leaving."

"Now? We're leaving now?"

"First thing in the morning, yes."

"You've changed your mind? Just like that?"

"On second thought I've decided I can't possibly spend another day at this table, not when I've realized the only reason my brother looks at Leah every five seconds is because he's envisioning what he so eagerly wishes to do to her on it."

Elijah glared at Niklaus. He would strangle his brother later.

"Get everyone down here and then I'll announce our next move," Klaus concluded.

Hayley jumped at the chance to run away from this conversation. While she raced upstairs to fetch the others Elijah took the opportunity to discipline his brother properly.

"Niklaus, is your only entertainment to torment me today?"

"You make it awfully easy, brother."

"I strongly suggest you spare Leah your juvenile commentary."

"Nonsense. Leah's one to appreciate a bit of fun. I heard what happened in Naples, brother. She and I…we could be friends."

Elijah's face darkened and he held up a hand to reproach his brother further.

"Niklaus, do you not think we have enough problems at present? Must you try to dredge up old ones?"

"Or are they new ones now, Elijah? I can never quite tell. Oh come, don't sulk. You always have an opinion on my life, it only seems fair that I should be allowed to poke fun at yours every once in a while."

"I fail to see the humor in senseless savagery."

"Ahh, but there's so much beauty in the revel of the kill, brother. That's what you fail to see but Leah is learning."

Elijah was about to say something when Hayley reemerged on the steps followed by Hope, Rebekah, and Philippe.

"Is it true, are we finally leaving?"

"Yes, Hope, pack your bags tonight because we are heading west at first light."

"West?" Rebekah griped. "I thought we were going to find a way to fight our father, not travel the bloody Oregon Trail."

"And I thought you would appreciate my desire to move to more fertile hunting ground, sister," Klaus gestured, "you know, before Leah snaps and takes a chunk out of your _beau_ _francais_."

"Why do I bother?" Elijah groaned, turning away to wait for Leah to come downstairs.

"For those who wish to read to the end," Klaus began to explain, "here's what happens: we head west to California and if by then the opportunity to send Mikael back to hell hasn't appeared, we cross the ocean and hide ourselves in the East."

"That's a ridiculous plan," Hayley blurted out.

"I don't know any Chinese," Hope grumbled.

"We can't run forever," Rebekah reminded him.

"Pack the cars," Klaus roared, "I'll hear no more of it!"

"Are we seriously driving the whole way to California?"

"We will stop half-way," Elijah answered his sister. "I believe you know the location of another safe house in Nebraska."

"Our old house?" Hope blinked, "It's still around? That's incredible."

"I want less chatter and more pitter-patter," Klaus pointed to his daughter. "Help your mum and load the cars."

Hayley threw up her hands, pointing out the obvious.

"Nothing's getting loaded unless I have the keys."

"Leah had them last," Hope revealed. "Where's she now?"

Hayley looked to Philippe, who looked to Rebekah, who looked back at Hope.

Everyone then looked to Elijah.

"No one's seen her?" he demanded. "All afternoon? _How is that possible?"_

"Still need a leash?" Klaus began to chuckle.

He was suddenly thrown backwards as Elijah slammed him against the wall by the front of his shirt.

_"__Another word, Niklaus - I dare you."_

Elijah dropped him, his point made. He'd had enough of his brother; there was only so much provocation he – and apparently Leah – could take in one day.

Turning around, everyone was staring at him in dead silence. He ignored them, focused only on finding Leah, and headed straight for the door.

"Elijah?" Hayley started, stopping him, worried about him. "Hey, let me come with you."

"No," he refused her rudely, then more gently, "but thank you. It will simply be faster if I retrieve Leah on my own."

And with that the first domino had fallen.


	11. Blood Sugar Sex Magik

It was very late and very dark by the time Elijah arrived at the lodge. He reckoned he'd come ten miles at least looking for Leah, clearly underestimating the size of the park, the remoteness of the safe house, and Leah's determination to seek out fresh blood.

He had recalled the direction she'd returned from on that afternoon they'd argued about her whereabouts. Heading out east had led him north and maybe back west? Elijah wasn't sure where he was anymore in relation to where he'd begun, just that this was the only dwelling within an hour's radius of their own cabin.

Although a red Explorer was parked outside, he could see no other indication that the lodge was occupied. The windows were dark and the silence was pervasive. The porch creaked under his feet and the front door was locked when he tugged on the handle.

Etiquette got the better of him and Elijah decided to knock, just in case he was mistaken and the inhabitants were simply asleep.

There was no answer - perhaps this was the wrong place? Yet had been out in those woods and there hadn't seemed to be anything else.

No, Leah was here.

The wind shifted and the smell of blood was bitter and beguiling. Elijah hadn't fed properly in days and his body was reminding him of a vampire's primal need to drink from the vein.

Out of options, he pulled the door completely off its hinges and leaned over the threshold to peer into the dark interior.

He ran into an invisible wall.

Elijah paused, thinking: the seal on the lodge meant someone was currently renting it. That person must be here - how else could Leah have gotten in now or before unless someone had invited her?

"Leah?" he called through the doorway. "Leah, darling, if you are here...come out now."

He tried to keep the impatience out of his voice but he wasn't so sure he was succeeding.

The wind picked up again but there was no response from inside the house. He leaned against the doorframe, aiming for a better view inside the lodge.

"Leah, please, you need to come out. I have come to take you home."

A light source was switched on somewhere above him. He could see it filtering down the second-floor hallway.

She appeared at the top of the stairs, half-bathed by the light in the darkness.

"Elijah?"

"Leah, come out."

"What? No - come in! They have everything here—electricity. Wi-Fi!"

Flipping on the rest of the lights, Leah bounded down the stairs, two at a time.

She was not alone.

There was someone else with her - or more accurately - she was dragging someone else with her. Leah descended the stairs in bare feet, her hair tousled and her skin glowing. There was blood down the front of her shirt.

Elijah stood transfixed by what he was witnessing before him.

"Hey, stranger!" she waved at him, smiling. Cheerful. "I have just had the best night ever! Remind me to tell you all about it later - it's kinda a long story."

She stopped suddenly, midway down the stairs, one hand grasping the railing, one hand gripping the boy.

"Wait - why are you here?"

Leah appeared completely unconcerned with the body she was trailing behind her. Elijah could hear a heartbeat and the groans the young man whimpered as he slid across each step. He was at least still alive.

He reached out a hand as far as the seal on the door would allow him.

"I came to find you," he began slowly, looking Leah over for any visible cause for her behavior.

"I was barely gone thirty minutes," she laughed. "No need to form a search party."

"Thirty minutes? Leah, you've been gone all afternoon. It took me an hour alone to come here."

"What?" She blinked. She was sure he was mistaken. "No, that's not right. Jared only just let me in like twenty minutes ago."

"Leah…who is Jared?" He gestured to the body. "Is that him? Can you tell me what's happened?"

Leah pointed to herself before pointing to the boy in slow realization.

"Oh," she stated in an airy tone. "No, no, this is _Sean_. He goes to Penn State. He's so nice! I told him I was hungry and he let me feed on him."

Elijah seriously doubted that was how the story went.

"Leah, heal him, compel him, and then let's go. We are leaving first thing in the morning. We don't have time for this."

"You never have time for anything," she frowned.

Hurt flashed across her face for only a second before it was immediately replaced with a mischievous smile.

"If we're leaving in the morning," she suggested, her voice alluring and blithe, "then what's the hurry? Stay. Let's enjoy ourselves, Elijah. They have a hot tub in the back…"

Something was wrong. Leah certainly enjoyed letting her hair down in spectacular fashion but rarely so while holding onto a barely conscious human being.

"How about this," he negotiated, "I promise to stay…only for a while…if you promise to heal him."

"Ugh, boring, but fine," she relented, still holding the boy like a doll at her side. "You come inside and I'll clean up from dinner."

When Elijah remained outside she realized why he wasn't taking her up on her invitation.

"Oh, that's right. You _can't_ come inside_._ You haven't been invited in. It sucks that Sean here's in no mood to invite you in himself - I think I was a bit too rough on him earlier. Wait, don't worry – I have an idea."

Elijah realized what she meant to do at the exact moment she did it.

"Leah, _NO."_

He watched helplessly as Leah grabbed the boy by the back of his head and broke his neck with a violent, upward motion. The body tumbled down the rest of the stairs, followed by Leah as she leaped over the corpse before waltzing over to the front door.

"Okay, you can come in now. They have drinks - want a drink?"

Despite the removal of the protective boundary Elijah remained frozen on the threshold.

Leah didn't seem to register the utter disbelief in his face. She turned from the door and skipped through the living room to the kitchen, flipping on the lights as she went.

With the new illumination Elijah was more clearly able to survey the lodge. Everything was perfectly in order: the television, the gaming system, the canoes still hanging from the ceiling. There was no sign at all of any sort of struggle; evidently Sean or Jared or someone had voluntarily invited Leah inside.

He wasn't too surprised at their fatal foolishness. What else would a bunch of college boys do when a beautiful girl mysteriously appeared on their doorstep?

Elijah didn't want to linger on the details. He wanted to get Leah far away from here.

"Leah, why did you come back here?"

She was rooting around in a cabinet above the refrigerator, balancing herself on a chair.

"I wanted to charge Hope's phone for her again. They have electricity - and did I mention liquor? What will it be: some grain alcohol I'm pretty sure's illegal in most states… or super cheap college vodka?"

Elijah made his way through the lodge without a response. She began to fix him a glass anyway; she moved around the kitchen as if it were her own home, opening and closing cabinets and drawers with an unsettling familiarity. She had clearly visited before.

"Who else is here, Leah?" he managed, wondering just how many loose ends would have to be tied up tonight.

She emerged from the kitchen, two glasses in her hand, trying her best to remember their names.

"Oh, everyone's upstairs – that's where the party was. Um, let me see, there's Sean, Carlos, Kent, Chris, Kris with a K, and Jared – but they're all dead. Well, Jared maybe not. He might have just fainted. I think he's a bit squeamish at the sight of blood."

Leah was known for her flippancy but such situations usually didn't involve piles of bodies.

She handed him his drink but he didn't take it, instead grabbing her so suddenly by the upper arms that she jumped and dropped both glasses. Elijah didn't mean to be rough but there was a desperate urgency to his investigation. He stared into her eyes, afraid she might be possessed…flipped her humanity switch…anything that would explain why it was not his Leah standing before him now.

He sighed, almost in relief. The answer to her strange behavior was fortunately ephemeral. The whites of her eyes were ringed with red and faint black veins could be seen beneath the fair complexion of her skin.

"You're high," he accused her, his tone mercilessly harsh. "Wonderful. Just what we need right now."

He really should have seen this coming: inconsistent feeding led to overfeeding which often resulted in a sort of blood-induced euphoria during which a vampire's already low inhibitions bottomed out. Unlike most other supernatural ailments, adding more blood to the situation wasn't going to help. He was simply going to have to wait for Leah to sober up.

He released her and she rubbed her arms with an indignant scowl.

_"Elijah - w__hat is your problem?"_

"You are my problem, Leah - Mikael is hunting us and _this_ is not lying low. This is calling attention to our location. This is putting us all in danger. This is not _your_ spring break."

Sighing into both hands, Elijah began to pace. If they were leaving tomorrow, they would also be leaving behind this mess. It would be best if his brother never had to learn about this incident. That, however, would require keeping Leah out of sight until her conscious kicked back in.

She reminded him of Niklaus when she spoke.

"Why do you have to get so righteous about everything? I just wanted to charge Hope's phone."

"Which required you to slaughter a fraternity?"

"Well…I got hungry."

"Fantastic, Leah. I've known freshly turned vampires with better self-control than you have displayed. You are putting us all in jeopardy with your actions."

She paid no attention to his pointed remarks, instead taking interest in the dark smoothness of his jacket lapels. With a distracted fascination she reached out her hand, running a thumb along the crisp edge of the fabric.

"If I've pissed you off, I'm sorry? I guess? I don't see what I did - I was just trying to help out Hope."

Elijah wrapped his hand around her fingers and gently detached them from his jacket. For a second he held both her hand and her attention, but then Leah pulled away having suddenly noticed the state of her own clothes.

She frowned, rubbing her hands across the blood on her shirt.

"God, this stuff gets everywhere, doesn't it?"

"Go clean yourself up," he ordered her, gesturing toward the kitchen. "We'll stay here until I figure out what to do. I need to dispose of the bodies..."

Elijah turned from her, expelling a frustrated breath and throwing a hand to his waist as he took a second to think. Leah approached him from behind with a suggestion of her own.

"Or…we could do something _else_..."

Whatever Elijah was going on about was in one ear and out the other with Leah. She was bored with all his talking anyway - he ought to be putting his mouth to better use.

"Elijah," she cooed, wrapping her arms around his waist. "We finally have some alone time. Just you and me…and Jared, I guess. If he's still alive. I don't mind if he watches, do you?"

"You think this is funny?"

"What I think is - your brother's right." She slunk around him and ran her hands underneath his jacket, easing it off with wandering hands. "Something has certainly gotten you…awfully frustrated. Let me help with that."

With her vamp speed she had his jacket off in the blink of an eye. She brandished it at him like a matador's cape from the bottom of the staircase, trying her best to lure him toward the bedroom.

"Leah, this is not the time – "

"Tuesday wasn't the time. Yesterday wasn't the time. This morning wasn't the time…"

When he didn't concede, her smile instantly disappeared.

"Is this about Jared? I really don't think he's gonna mind if we use his bed."

"Yes, Leah. This is about Jared…and Sean, and all the other young men in this house."

Leah lowered her arm with a sigh, the jacket smacking her low on her leg.

"Are you upset that they're dead?"

"I'm concerned that _you_ killed them."

"Way to set the mood, Elijah. You're making this really difficult. Are you going to come upstairs with me or I am gonna have to start taking my clothes off right here?"

Dropping his jacket, she began to pull up the hem of her shirt, exposing the skin underneath an inch at a time.

"Leah…"

Elijah knew what she was doing: purposefully, masterfully – she was strumming at his strings in the hope that he would abandon all serious talk and indulge her. It was the ultimate method of distraction and it was working: he could hardly think of anything but her.

"This is hardly— " he tried to protest. "Leah, we shouldn't—"

"Shut up and come here. _Now_."

_Done__._

He pinned Leah to the wall, her arms forced above her head as he began to kiss his way down her neck, the smell of blood on her clothes making his run hot with a new hunger.

Leah moved under him, beckoning him, torturing him. Elijah's fingers buried themselves in her hair, lacing through cinnabar strands until his hand ran boldly low down her back and pressed her into him further.

She moaned into his kiss, breaking them apart only long enough to ease her shirt over her head. His lips began to explore her newly exposed skin; desperate to lay hands on his, Leah ripped open Elijah's shirt, no patience to bother with buttons.

The timing, the location, her hand sliding up the inside of his thigh – 'inappropriate' described everything about this moment and Elijah eagerly accepted it all. Leah grunted against him as he pulled her in closer, ready to carry her upstairs and experience all the reckless abandon he could fit into the night before he was stuck on the road and on the run once again.

And that's exactly what he would've done if only Jared had actually been dead.


	12. In the Forest of the Night

Now Elijah was really frustrated. Now he was _beyond furious_.

Cleaning up Leah's mess had been the last thing on his mind when Jared had interrupted them. He'd appeared suddenly at the top of the stairs clutching his neck and begging for help - a loose end with the worst possible timing.

Elijah highly doubted this was Leah's idea of a threesome.

The mood had been killed as quickly as the anger rose within him. Quick and commanding, Elijah was now all business, forced to take matters upon himself - had he let Leah have her way she would have snapped the boy's neck and stepped over his body on the way to the bedroom.

Elijah grabbed him, healed him, threw him through the doorway.

Jared was swung across the threshold, crashing to the porch in a heap. He struggled to his feet, clinging to the railing as he pulled himself up.

_"What are you people?"_ he screamed in terror, shivering from the trauma of his night. It probably also didn't help that he'd just been dragged down the stairs and over the body of his dead friend, but such trivial considerations were just that.

Elijah was in a very dangerous mood and his rage emanated in every direction - it lashed out at the boy and at Leah and at himself most of all. He should never have allowed this nonsense to progress so far. Leah had too easily distracted him from her own indiscretions and Elijah did not appreciate being manipulated with sex. It was a sobering reminder that love was a blindness - in the best ways and the worst.

Leah stormed out of the lodge after him, pulling her shirt back on and tossing her hair from her eyes. With the new clarity she was beginning to see the results of her actions; the haze of her bloodlust was lifting and the stony edge of Elijah's voice was quickly sharpening her senses.

While it was a relief to him that she was almost herself once more, it was a very inconvenient time for Leah to start caring about people again.

She offered Elijah the lighter he had ordered her to locate, hesitant over his intentions.

"What are you going to do to him?" she demanded. "Don't hurt him."

Elijah didn't have the patience to explain the irony of her request.

"I'm going to compel him," he said simply, grabbing the boy roughly by the front of the shirt.

Jared flinched in fear and Leah stepped forward, pulling on Elijah's arm.

"Just let him go. Please, he didn't do anything."

"But neither did _you_, Leah, so now I have do it for you."

As if Jared wasn't traumatized enough, the tenor of Elijah's voice as he compelled him could have shattered stone.

"You will remember nothing of tonight - not that we were here, not that I am saying these things to you. When I release you, you will drive immediately to the nearest police station. You will tell them what has happened: that you and your friends had a party, there were drugs and alcohol, you can't remember exactly what happened, but you escaped and it's a terrible tragedy that your friends all died in the fire."

Leah leaned in, staring up at Elijah in confusion.

"Why did you say the thing about the fire? There's no fire."

"There will be," he inhaled, taking the lighter from her. He shoved it into the boy's chest.

"You will take this and when we have left go into the lodge. Anything that is paper, that is cloth, that will burn, you will light it. Then you will get in the car and you will drive - _do you understand?"_

"I'll do it all," he agreed without choice, clasping the lighter in trembling hands. "Just please don't kill me."

Elijah dropped him and immediately extended his hand to Leah.

"Let's go."

She hesitated, sharing a look with the frightened boy - he had been so nice. Jared had complimented her smile, offered his phone charger, invited her inside. He reminded Leah of a friend she'd grown up with in New Orleans. They had both been raised as wards of St. Ann's and besides Hope he had been the only other friend she could truly call dear.

Zach had been killed. The news had come to her while she had been out of the country with Elijah, months after the last time she had seen him at her graduation party. But Jared was so much like him; candid and spontaneous and adventurous and young. He would be graduating himself in just a few weeks – he didn't deserve this.

Leah hadn't meant to ruin his life. She never wanted anyone to ever look at her the way he was looking at her now.

"You can't do this to him," she begged Elijah.

"You've done this to him," he reminded her.

\

The only light in the forest was from the burning lodge. The smoke followed their footsteps as the couple made their way back toward their own cabin. Elijah set a determined, urgent stride and even with his human pace Leah found herself needing to double her steps to keep up.

The woods grew darker and for a long time they walked in silence, Elijah leading the way and Leah following, slightly shivering from the cold shoulder he had been giving her for miles.

"Elijah, wait."

She cursed, catching a bare foot on a branch and nearly spilling onto the forest floor.

"Can we at least talk about this?"

Continued silence.

"We have like five more miles and you can't find _five minutes_ to just _talk_?"

Slowing for a second he whirled around to confront her.

"There is nothing I can say which I haven't already tried to tell you for the last nine months."

He turned and kept on walking. Leah put forth a burst of speed to catch up.

"I don't know what came over me, Elijah. I'm not just making excuses – _ow, Jesus."_

Leah had zoomed straight into a tree. She clung to it as he plodded on without her.

"Are we even going the right way?"

"You tell me, you've obviously traveled this path many times before."

"I wasn't _looking_ for trouble," she said sardonically. "I don't try to make your life hard on purpose."

There were so many thoughts circling Elijah's mind, battling for his attention, that her words barely registered. His singular goal was to get back to the cabin and get Leah cleaned up without Hayley asking a thousand invasive questions and his brother making a thousand more unhelpful comments. He did not want to lie to them (he was unsure that was even possible) but he had yet to formulate what he would say if either of them asked where Leah had been all this time.

They were so deep in the woods that there was nothing before them that even resembled a path and Elijah was not as sure of the way as his confident pace would imply.

Leah stumbled as she continued on through the brush and paused to rub a stubbed toe. Elijah hadn't exactly given her a chance to go back for her shoes after compelling Jared.

He was now moving further away with every second and she cursed as she raced to catch up with him once more.

"Will you stop?" she begged, using her vampire speed to cover the ever-growing distance between them. She overshot again and slammed right into him. On impact, Elijah stopped in his tracks and turned, allowing Leah to cling to the front of his shirt to stable herself.

"Will you slow down, Elijah? Jesus, where's the fire?"

He ignored her tactless question.

"We need to get back."

"Like right this instant?"

"We are leaving in the morning, Leah. We need to pack the cars, erase our footprints, and move on before your little fun back there brings Mikael upon us."

"You were the one who torched the place," she threw out.

"To destroy the evidence. My father is a vampire, Leah, he knows how to track vampires. I couldn't have your mess making the front page."

Elijah continued to stalk through the woods, turning his back on her once again. Leah hung back momentarily, recovering from the sting of his words. By the time she had collected herself the Original was a dark silhouette disappearing into the night.

"I don't think we're going the right way," she called after him.

Receiving no response, Leah concluded even vampire men were terrible at directions. Taking a moment to survey their surroundings, she turned on her heels, hands on her hips, trying to recognize any sort of familiar marker in the pitch-blackness of the woods.

That's when she noticed there was another light in the forest. She squinted to the right, just beyond wherever Elijah thought he was going. It was a tiny light, likely several miles ahead of them, and it flickered like a star a million light-years away.

Perhaps it was a campfire from another cabin? She pulled out Hope's phone, glancing down at the display before shoving it back in her pocket.

It was nearly one in the morning, suspiciously late for s'mores.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Leah repeated, louder this time. She was speaking to nothing; she couldn't even see Elijah anymore, he was so far ahead of her.

With a frustrated growl she sped ahead again, bypassing Elijah and giving him a moment to finally catch up with her for once. She panted, catching her breath, and then paused realizing she shouldn't normally be winded.

There was something wrong with the air; it was thick and hazy and it scratched her throat and stung her eyes.

They _were_ going the wrong way.

"Do you smell that, Elijah?"

He halted in front of her, wondering what game she was playing now.

"It's the smoke from the lodge, Leah, now come."

"Okay, but shouldn't we be going in the _opposite_ direction of the smoke?"

"It's just the wind—"

"_No_," she forced him to listen, pointing now at the canopy above them. "Trust my hybrid instincts, Elijah. Look at the leaves; the wind's blowing from the direction we are heading. So we're either going in circles, or –"

"There's a fire ahead of us as well."

"Yeah, but that doesn't make sense, I mean, we are in a forest, what else could be on fire but -"

She swung around to face the flickering light in the distance. Her head still felt like it was full of cotton balls - that was the only reason she hadn't realized it sooner.

_"__Oh my God."_

The words tumbled from her mouth as she finally got her bearings.

"Elijah, that's_ our_ cabin on fire."

**Holy smokes! What's gonna happen next? Thank you for your wonderful reviews and theories! If you post one with a username I will always try to get back to you. In thanks, stay tuned for a second chapter later today!**


	13. Arsonist's Lullaby

"Hope! _Hayley!"_

Elijah raced into the clearing, Leah a pace behind, the last four miles taken at full speed. The cabin before them was in flames. Smoke billowed from every window in oily, black streams, the glass shattered from the heat. The front door was missing, ripped off its hinges. It lay blackened and smoldering across the porch steps.

_"Hope! HOPE!"_

Leah screamed over the crackle, calling for her friend. The fire reflected in her wide eyes as she watched the cabin seethe and hiss. The blasting heat was the only thing stopping her from rushing forward; it was engulfing the house and would engulf her too.

Elijah was spinning, searching in every direction for a sign of Niklaus, Hayley, and the others. With a house full of vampires, he was certain they would have already gotten out by now, finding some place a safe distance away to regroup and wait for his return. The cars were still out front: they hadn't driven away - they had to still be near.

Leah shared the same thought. She had turned back toward the forest, cupping her hands and shouting for Hope.

Elijah strained his ears but heard no response above the roaring of the flames. The cabin creaked and groaned as the fire ate away at its wooden bones. Another window exploded above them and Leah leapt back with a scream as the glass showered down on them.

She was not the only one screaming.

Leah made to run into the house, bare feet over hot shards.

_"__Wait!"_ Elijah shouted, flashing forward to pull her back. His grasp on her arm was rigid and she looked back at him with wounded bewilderment.

"That scream was Hope, Elijah! They're inside - we need to help them! _Let me go!"_

"Think, Leah, _focus._ Niklaus and Hayley would not leave Hope. If she's in there, they are too. Why? What does that mean?"

He maneuvered Leah behind him and despite the heat of the fire began to herd her closer to the cabin.

A rustling out in the forest. Elijah pushed her further away from the trees.

"Go inside," he ordered her.

"The cabin is _on fire_!"

"The cabin is sealed – protected. I want you inside now - what is out here is more dangerous than the fire."

Sure enough Leah saw something move in the darkness. Without hesitation Elijah forced her onto the porch.

"Leah, _darling_ \- inside now."

"Inside the _burning house?"_

"_N_o_w_," he insisted and picking her up simply threw her through the open doorway.

She fell back into soft arms. Rebekah helped Leah to her feet, wondering why her brother was delaying outside.

"What are doing, Elijah?! Get inside - _he's out there._"

"It's a trap," he'd realized. "He can't get inside so he'll smoke you out."

"Thank you, Elijah, for that _belated_ observation," Klaus seethed, appearing in the doorway. He was not at all pleased with his brother's late appearance or the fact that his so-called safe house was currently in flames.

"Niklaus, where are the others?"

"Waiting for the diversion they need to escape."

Klaus raised the White Oak stake in his hand, sharing a look with his brother. Elijah understood what he needed to do.

In that moment, Leah understood too.

"Elijah - don't. Just come inside," she urged him. "Please - Philippe's spell will protect us."

A branch snapped loudly - close by, very close - and Elijah spun around to seek out the source of the noise. He could see nothing but the empty yard - he could feel, however, they were being watched...

Eyes still on the tree line, he reached a hand back through the doorway.

"Niklaus - give me the stake."

"What?" Leah gasped. "No! You can't go out there alone!"

"He won't be."

Klaus had stepped through the doorway and over the protected threshold. He joined his brother on the porch, White Oak stake in hand, sharing a silent conversation with a look and a nod.

Thrusting out a hand, Elijah grabbed one of the vertical shafts from the porch railing, yanking free a makeshift stake.

"Right," he concluded, turning back to his sister. "Rebekah - I am trusting you to do exactly as I say. I am putting her safety in your hands."

He looked to Leah when he spoke, fixing her with a gentle gaze and urging her to accept what he was about to do. Leah was speechless - there was no trace in his eyes of either anger or frustration. It had all been replaced with an emotion that no single word could properly describe. The doubts she had begun to entertain about his love now lost their hold on her heart - he was going to put his life in danger for her even after everything she'd done.

Struck by this realization Leah couldn't find the strength to protest. Rebekah spoke for her.

"Don't do this," she begged. "Elijah, please."

"Promise me, sister, that you will get Leah and the others out of here immediately."

A dark blur flashed across the clearing. It was impossible to say what it had been but Klaus growled and took off down the porch steps. Elijah immediately began to follow.

Leah tried to rush forward but Rebekah caught her arm and yanked her back.

"Come out you coward!" Klaus bellowed, circling the yard. His eyes turned amber in the firelight as veins erupted around them. _"Come out, Mikael, and face me!"_

"_Mikael_," Leah whispered, frantically tugging on Rebekah's sleeve. "No - they can't go against him alone! Rebekah, we can't stay in here and do nothing!"

"We're not," she announced, her expression determined. "Don't ask questions and just do what I say – get the keys to Elijah's car. I'll get the others."

"The car? We're not—"

"No questions, _just go, Leah!"_

"But Elijah—"

"—is not the one you should worry about."

The urgency of the situation was not lost on Leah and yet she found herself momentarily delayed. She stood in the foyer staring out through the open doorway. She knew Elijah and Klaus had just left but the yard was now completely empty.

Suddenly nothing seemed to be making sense. Time, for one, was throwing her off. The moments from this morning seemed like the events of last year – or had she just dreamed that they happened? Had that been reality and she was now returned to some strange world? Certainly this was some irrational realm where a burning house was the safest place to be and Elijah wanted her to do nothing while he was in danger.

"Leah, snap out of it! The bloody keys!"

Right. Right. _Of course. _

Leah started upstairs. She had been the last one with the keys – she remembered that much. She also remembered they were in the nightstand next to her bed – she remembered that much as well. Everything else, however, was not coming to mind so easily. The chaos around Leah was only a fraction of whatever was going on inside her head. She wasn't just light-headed – had her brain turned to mush altogether? As soon as she managed to grasp a thought it just as soon slipped away.

By the time Leah reached the top of the stairs she had forgotten why she was going upstairs at all.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you - the keys, Leah!"

"Right, _right_."

The keys – they were in her nightstand. Leah ran down the hall and through the open door to her bedroom but pulled up abruptly in the doorway. Standing there, she wasn't so sure this _was_ the reality - nothing about the scene before her was familiar.

The air was a haze of thick grey smoke and the four walls were coated in flame – how the entire room hadn't collapsed was a mystery. Her bed, nightstand, and all the rest of the furniture had been heaped up in the center of the room to prevent it from turning into kindling.

Hope stood by the pile, coughing into her sleeve as she watched Philippe work the barrier spell against the fire. Sweat was dripping from his brow as he exerted all his power to keep up the invisible wall between them and the conflagration.

"Leah!" Hope called out, turning aside to cough. _"Where have you been?"_

Hayley cut in, approaching Rebekah in the doorway.

"What's happening out there?"

"No time – we have to get them to the car."

At the mention of the car Leah climbed through the pile of furniture to fish the keys from her nightstand. She grabbed the sets for both vehicles just in case. The keys were warm in her hand but she flashed them successfully at Rebekah.

"Bloody wonderful - now can you manage to use them?"

Despite what she had promised her brother, Rebekah didn't have time right now to babysit Leah. The fire had already crawled across the ceiling and was eating away at the roof beams. They had to get out before the entire cabin collapsed upon them. Her concern was only for her husband who she immediately began dragging away from his spell casting.

With Philippe's spell now broken the full force of the fire was instantly released. There was a loud pop and a shower of embers - the ceiling beams now glowed orange and red. The roof wasn't going to stay up for much longer.

Hope almost tripped over Leah as they both rushed for the door. She noticed her friend's shirt.

"Oh my God - _is that your blood?_"

"OUT!" Hayley yelled, pushing them both into the hallway.

The air downstairs was only slightly more breathable; a breeze came in through the open front door as they left the cabin one after the other. Leah, keys in hand, now led the way, crossing the protective seal and setting foot onto the porch.

Klaus and Elijah were nowhere in view. The scene across the front yard was serene apart from the crackle of the fire and the hiss of the wood as it gave into the inferno around them.

She gave Hayley the sign for all clear.

In a flash, they were all at the Escalade. Hayley shoved Hope into the back and Rebekah did the same with Philippe. Leah threw open the driver's side door, crawled in, and jammed the key into the ignition. Rebekah slid into the seat beside her, noticing her hesitation.

_"What the hell are you waiting for, Leah, go!"_

"Are we just supposed to leave them?"

"They'll meet us later - now go!"

"But how will -"

"_Just drive!_" Rebekah screamed. Leah turned the key, throwing her weight into the motion. With no other choice, she stepped on the gas.

They had barely escaped the clearing when the full wrath of the devil slammed into their car.


	14. Come Join the Murder

The windshield shattered in Leah's face as the car rolled once, twice, three times. On all sides the metal crunched in around her. She would have screamed but the steering column crushed her lungs, pinning her inside the wrecked vehicle.

Her vision had gone dark and she could only hear the chaos: Rebekah screamed for Philippe, Hayley shouted for Hope. Leah tried to call out for help but could only cough up blood. She struggled to turn herself right-side up within the metal shell of the car but the world was spinning; her disorientation was more than just physical.

The violent collision of the crash had shaken something loose – not within the car but inside Leah's mind. Flashes of memory bombarded her – knocking on a door, a party in progress, a cell-phone charger, loud music, louder screams – and then Elijah.

_Elijah._

Elijah and Klaus. And _Mikael._

They were all out there now – fighting. Fueled by a desperate panic, Leah kicked out violently at the driver's side. Pain shot up her leg as the door was thrown open. She spilled onto the ground in a tangle of limbs, groaning as parts of her body she hadn't realized were broken began to heal.

Her fractured leg kept her down in the dirt. Immobilized, she could only watch in horror.

The cabin had finally collapsed upon itself and as it took the porch down with it, Klaus fought for his life at the foot of the destruction.

He was locked in battle with a massive man. Middle-aged and tall, his hair was light but his clothes were dark - his wild brutality was barely tamed by the modernity of his appearance. With fresh fear Leah realized this was Elijah and Klaus' father.

This was Mikael.

There was Klaus.

_But where was Elijah?_

Leah crawled across the ground, pulling herself with her arms as the bones in her leg fused together. Swallowing down the pain she desperately searched the yard for Elijah.

She flinched at what she found.

Elijah lay crippled on the ground, groaning as he struggled to pull out the weapon buried in his chest. It was not a stake; it was much longer, wider, thicker than a man's fist - Mikael had driven the porch beam straight through to the other side.

Exhausted by the effort, Elijah stilled and fell back into the dirt.

Rebekah grabbed Leah, dragging her up from the ground before she could run.

"We need to go!"

_"NO! Get off of me – Elijah needs me, Rebekah!"_

"Elijah needs you not to get yourself killed."

Rebekah dragged her away, pulling her towards the second car where Hayley had already gathered her daughter. She could hear that Hope was resisting her mother and Leah was acting no better.

_"Let me go!"_ she screamed, twisting and turning and feral in her actions. In a desperate move Leah dropped her fangs - Rebekah anticipated the hybrid's bite and immediately released her.

Leah raced across the clearing, collapsing on the ground next to Elijah.

Her hands hesitated over his wound but he was more pained by her presence. He tried to push her away, his voice a strained whisper.

"Leah…_go_."

"Shh, stop. Don't move. Oh, God..._so much blood..."_

Before he could brace himself, Leah grabbed the beam and yanked - hard. It slipped free from Elijah's chest with a sickening squelch and he winced through clenched teeth, plastering a hand over the hole in his chest. The wound was still bleeding profusely.

"It's not _healing_ – Elijah, why's it not healing?!"

"Where is Hope?"

With great difficulty, Elijah painfully rolled over to look across the yard. He needed to confirm that Hope and the others at least had found their way into the second car.

None of them had.

Hayley and Rebekah each had Hope by the arm and were shouting at her to come away from the cabin - she was refusing to leave her father.

_"Dad!"_

Klaus turned, distracted by his daughter's scream - Mikael seized the opportunity. Backhanding the hybrid, he sent Klaus sprawling across the ground, the stake flying out of his hand.

As he struggled to stand up, Mikael kicked him back down.

"Hiding in the woods like an animal! How long did you think you could run from me, _boy_?"

"I will… _end you!"_ Klaus bellowed, his blood boiling with rage.

He tried to pull himself up again but collapsed, folding just as easily as Elijah had before. Neither of the brothers had fed properly in days; they weren't healing – or moving – as fast as they needed to be.

The battle was lost before it had begun. Still, there was too much at stake for Klaus to give in. He would die before he let Mikael come near his daughter.

Hope continued to struggle against her mother, screaming for her father to get up. It terrified her to see him so vulnerable. This was the Klaus Mikaelson – this was her dad – fathers were supposed to be invincible.

There were tears streaming down her face - she was so scared.

_"Daddy! Please! Please, get up!"_

Mikael turned toward the sounds of her pitiful pleas. They amused him greatly.

"Look how the wolf whore cries for her daddy."

_"You leave her alone!"_

Mikael was one to kick a dog who was down. He rammed a foot into Klaus' side, ribs cracking loudly beneath the blow, smiling sadistically as Hope screamed louder.

"Do you see now, child, how _weak_ your father is - an embarrassment and a _failure_ – a pathetic fool pretending to be king. I have waited many centuries for this moment. The witches brought me back to cleanse the Quarter – first I silenced those insolent wolves, now I shall finally destroy this _abomination_... then I shall erase the mistake that is _you_."

_"You monster!_" Hope screamed. _"What did you do to Aidan?!"_

In a second, she had thrown herself forward, lunging out of both her mother's and her aunt's grip. With only a thought Hope conjured the only spell she knew.

Flames erupted up Mikael's arm. He snarled at Hope, smothering the fire with his hand as he rounded on her.

Klaus was instantly on his feet, seizing the closest weapon available – Elijah's broken bit of railing. He propelled himself at Mikael.

But he wasn't fast enough. Mikael snatched the stave before it could pierce him and turned it on Klaus. Bringing it down like a war hammer, he buried the stake in the hybrid's chest, driving it in deeper until the wood splintered against the breastbone.

Klaus fell to the ground in agony.

It was time to end this. Mikael cast his eye around for the weapon he now needed.

Several yards away, with Leah's help, Elijah had finally come to his feet. Following Mikael's line of sight, his eyes landed on the White Oak stake.

He had to reach it first.

As they both raced for it simultaneously, Elijah realized too late that the stake was not his father's intended target. Mikael grabbed his son by the front of his shirt and lifted him effortlessly, throwing him into the nearest tree.

Leah screamed as she heard his spine shatter on impact. Elijah slid down the tree's trunk and collapsed at its roots. He lay motionless on the ground.

By now Mikael had claimed his prize and the rest was inevitable. With the White Oak stake he loomed over Klaus, ready to drive it down and through the hybrid's heart.

The blow never came - the stake flew from Mikael's grip. Soaring through the air it landed in front of Rebekah.

Mikael spun around in a rage, kicking up dirt, seeking out the witch.

_"You wretched creature - "_

Philippe emerged from the darkness, raising his other hand to stun the vampire with a ball of flame.

He howled in outrage as the fire forced him back. Before Mikael could recover his weapon, Philippe conjured a ring of fire, encircling them both.

With one word, the witch then drove the vampire to the ground. Mikael clutched his head in torturous pain.

Rebekah snatched up the White Oak stake from the dirt. She turned toward her husband with a mix of gratitude and confusion.

"Philippe - what the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Go – Rebekah. You have the stake. Take your brothers and go!"

_"We need to move!"_ Hayley reminded everyone. Shoving her daughter inside the car, she slammed the door behind her, promising Hope to save her father next.

Klaus still groaned on the ground beyond the ring of fire. Hayley grabbed him under the arms, pulling him up to his feet.

They passed Philippe still locked in the fiery ring with Mikael. He looked horrible, worn down, exhausted. The look he was giving Rebekah was apologetic.

She rushed forward, armed with the White Oak stake, prepared to kill her father to protect her husband. But the magic of the circle would not let her pass. She was thrown back from the fire. Begging him from the ground she pleaded.

"Don't do this, Philippe – there's always another way!"

"Rebekah, _mon cœur_ – trust me and just _go_."

_"But he'll kill you!"_

"Give me the stake," Klaus demanded, pulling Rebekah back from the fire, "and get in the car, sister. Now."

"I'm not leaving him!"

_"Now, Rebekah!"_ he snarled, dragging her with an iron grip. He threw her against the side of the car, yanking open the door as he pocketed the stake.

"_In_, sister. I won't ask again."

Elijah was just reaching the vehicle as well. He leaned on Leah for support, breathing raggedly through broken ribs. Hope threw open the side door and jumped out of the car to help him.

Brushing off his niece's assistance, he pushed Leah toward her.

"Hope, please - just help me get her inside."

Mentally, Leah was in shock. It had unnerved her to witness Mikael attack Elijah, shattering her fundamental confidence in his immortality – that he would always be there. For her. With her.

Even now Leah refused to leave his side, to lose him - she had latched herself to the front of his shirt and wouldn't let go.

Elijah forced her to look at him, forced her to hear him.

"Trust me," he begged her, "Leah – it's okay. Let me go."

Hope grabbed her friend around the waist to pull her inside the car.

"Come on, Leah, I need you here with me. He'll be fine – come sit with me."

Elijah slammed the door behind them.

Before he could make another move Klaus' roar drew everyone's attention.

"REBEKAH! IF YOU DON'T GET IN THE BLOODY CAR RIGHT THIS INSTANT –"

"I'm not leaving him!" she spun on him. _"Let go of me, Nik!"_

"Rebekah," Elijah interceded, "we need to get the girls out of here."

_"The girls?"_ she spat at him. "Are Hope and Leah the only ones who matter in this family? That's _my husband_ you're leaving to die!"

"And _your husband_ told you to _trust him_."

A loud explosion, a burst of flame – the siblings spun toward the circle of fire.

Philippe sunk to his knees as Mikael rose to his feet, the broken vessels in his brain finally allowed to heal.

The witch was weakening.

Rebekah made to run for him but the barrier of flame now sputtered violently as it died out. Any second and Mikael would be freed from his prison…

Klaus grabbed Rebekah's arm, yanking her toward him.

"Forgive me, sister – but know that I do this for my daughter."

Rebekah suddenly slumped forward as Klaus caught her, his hand still on the silver dagger now buried in her chest.

_"Dad?!"_

"You son of a bitch," Hayley scowled.

_"Brother!"_

"_Not a word_," Klaus hissed, pitching his sister forward into Elijah's arms. "Take her. The keys, Hayley – to me."

She handed them over in speechless shock, jumping in the car beside Hope. Elijah maneuvered his sister up front as Klaus climbed behind the wheel. Revving the engine, he warned his brother.

"And if you even think about removing that dagger, rest assured there's one with your name on it."

**End of Part 2**


	15. Defenestration

**Part 3**

The vehicle sped on. The compartment was gloomy and not simply because it was nearly dawn. After four hours of tense uncertainty they crossed over safely into Ohio.

Hope had stayed awake the whole time. Restless and nervous she found the silence around her unsettling.

It wasn't as if no one had spoken at all. Just, no one had said anything yet about _the thing_ – that happened.

Well, both the things. Well, okay - all the things.

Hope sighed, turning her head to stare out her dark window. All this time on the road was giving her some perspective. As she now sat next to her mother, watching farm after farm go by, Hope began to realize one thing about her family:

They were horrible people.

Okay, so maybe 'horrible' was a little strong – but certainly a group of people not gifted with the most accurate of moral compasses.

This was not a conclusion Hope wanted to make; as the silence continued from Pennsylvania into the Midwest it became harder not to.

Her dad, her mom – Elijah: they had all played a part in last night's terrible tragedy.

They had left him behind – Philippe, Rebekah's husband. Philippe who was the kindest, funniest, humblest witch Hope had ever known. Philippe who had accepted her family without judgment, who always spoiled her with presents when he visited, who loved her aunt so much he was willing to sacrifice himself to keep her safe…

…but that hadn't meant they should have _let _him.

Hope reminded herself there was really only one person at fault; this would never have happened if her dad hadn't daggered Rebekah.

_Those stupid daggers._

Hope swore Klaus had gotten rid of them – actually, she swore he had _sworn_ he had. Her father had promised he would destroy the whole set after the last time he had used a dagger on one of his siblings.

It had been on Elijah. She had been there when Klaus put him down moments after Antonia killed Leah in the cemetery. Her uncle had been a volatile mixture of grief and rage and Klaus had not appreciated his brother blaming him for ruining everything.

Again. As always.

So he daggered him.

But that's not how you deal with people! Surely after a thousand years her father would have realized that.

Right?

Hope glanced up toward the front of the car. Rebekah was propped up in the passenger's seat as Klaus continued to push them westward at grueling pace. The White Oak stake was in his jacket pocket; he crushed the second silver dagger to the steering wheel as he drove.

It was a show of power; he was letting them all know he was in charge.

Well, he was letting Elijah know. The dagger did have his name on it.

Not literally, of course, but there was probably a reason why Elijah had taken his place way in the back of the Suburban with Leah and as far away from the dagger as possible.

Her uncle's detachment annoyed her. Elijah was acting as if he'd simply tired of some childish spat between siblings in which one had stabbed the other in the chest with a dagger – it happens, can't be helped, boys will be boys, et cetera, et cetera.

Excuses, excuses - the truth was Elijah was afraid of her father.

Or maybe he was just distracted with Leah.

She pretended not to listen in on their conversation.

"Ow," Leah winced, startled awake by a sudden sharp pain.

"Forgive me, I was trying not to wake you."

Elijah had her legs into his lap and was gently inspecting the bottom of her foot. Pulling out a sliver of glass, he held it up for her to see.

"In the chaos I don't think you realized."

"Wow - okay. How long was I out?"

"Hours," he admitted, frowning at what he'd found. There was still a rather large shard in her foot. "You were exhausted. I let you sleep. Now this may sting."

The skin had healed over the glass. Leah sucked in a breath as he cut into the flat of her foot with his thumbnail. He drew out the shard she'd stepped outside the burning cabin.

It was the size of a quarter. She hadn't felt a thing until now.

Leah flinched as he pulled it out. Elijah discarded it with the others in his handkerchief.

"We'll need to get you some shoes," he mused, patting Leah's leg affectionately, "and some new clothes."

"Look who's talking," she whispered, running a hand down his bloody shirt.

"We'll make do with what we have," he assured her.

"Which is nothing," she pointed out.

Elijah didn't respond. He reached out to rub a dark bruise on her arm, concerned it was some lingering injury. It brushed away under his thumb, a harmless concoction of cinder and mud.

On the other hand the blood which stained her shirt was quite real. In this way their outfits matched perfectly.

Elijah was about to say something but Leah hushed him, motioning to Hope with a finger to her lips. She didn't want her friend to know what she had done at the lodge – let her keep thinking the blood on her clothes was her own. Hope could never know the truth.

Hope would never know. She continued to stare out her window, watching the sun rise over the corn fields, wondering how much her mother, her father, her uncle, her aunt – even her best friend – kept from her.

She concluded that Elijah hadn't yet voiced his disapproval over her father's actions because he was simply too focused on Leah – that and also Klaus' unsubtle threat with the dagger.

Her mother hadn't brought it up either though. Hope found herself angry that everyone was keeping quiet. As long as they did, her father's actions remained validated.

…and it wasn't like Klaus had done anything remotely justified. One – you don't dagger your family members - full stop - and two – everyone has the right to try to save the ones they love. Okay, sure sometimes that means you end up doing desperate or foolish things, but who could ever blame anyone for falling in love?

_Klaus Mikaelson_. That's who.

Hope leaned back in her seat, glaring at the dagger in his hand.

She hadn't done too well in college psychology so maybe she was just missing something but what exactly was her father's issue with his siblings? Anyone? Was it an abandonment-phobia-jealousy thing?

Thinking about it now, the issue didn't actually seem to be so much with her aunt and uncle than with their _partners_.

…and then to add to the family dysfunction her father always used_ her_ as his excuse to abuse his siblings. _Her! _

It was like...as soon as Klaus felt that Elijah or Rebekah had made someone other than her a priority he flipped out and daggered them. Had they sworn some oath to always and forever keep her first in their lives? It wasn't like she couldn't take care of herself! It wasn't as if Rebekah had signed her death warrant by wanting to save her husband. It wasn't like Elijah loving Leah was putting her in danger…

Hope was tired of being her father's excuse for his bad behavior.

And she was tired of the daggers. Period.

So she decided to do something about it.

In one sudden motion, Hope rolled down her window, leaned between the front seats, and plucked the dagger from her father's hand.

She threw it out the open window.

Klaus nearly veered the car into oncoming traffic.

_"__Hope! What the bloody hell?!"_

She spoke up before he could even _think_ about turning around and going back for the damn thing.

"You _promised_ you'd get rid of them!"

"I did! And then I fetched them back!"

Hope frowned, disappointed in her father. She moved forward again to pull the dagger from Rebekah but her mother held her back.

"Let's not give him a reason to drive off the road."

Foolishly, Hope tried to use reason against Klaus Mikaelson.

"Then how are we supposed to drive to the next safe house if Rebekah's the only one who knows where it is?!"

"Well, if my sister had been so_ generous_ to inform us of its location–"

"Before you daggered her, Niklaus?"

Elijah had finally entered the conversation.

"Oh, here we go again," Klaus grumbled, already seething over the loss of the dagger. Now how was he supposed to shut his brother up?

"Was there no way to persuade Rebekah to your plan without reverting to such barbarity?"

"No – there wasn't," Klaus ground out, sensing the oncoming inquisition. "And to answer that look I see you giving me in the mirror, Elijah, yes, I do regret what has happened - all of it. So there."

"Philippe didn't deserve this."

"Don't you start too, Hayley. I shouldn't need to be explaining this to you. Being a Mikaelson means making sacrifices for family. Philippe knew that."

"But you didn't need to dagger Rebekah."

"I did it _for Hope_, Hayley, why does no one see that?"

"…and how exactly did sticking a knife in your sister help our daughter?"

Hope was on the edge of her seat, catching her father's gaze in the mirror as she eagerly awaited his explanation.

It never came.

"I'll hear no more of it," he concluded definitely.

Hope threw herself back into her seat, defeated. She always seemed to run into walls with her father. He put them up just as fast as she tried to tear them down.

Silence took over again and she somberly rolled her window back up. Although she had rid them of one of the silver knives it barely felt like an accomplishment; Rebekah was still daggered, Philippe was still dead, and her father was still using her as his excuse to do horrible things.

And her mother let him. And Elijah let him

Which made them both horrible people too.

/

After a quick stop for lunch - which consisted of various sugary convenient store snacks - Hope fell asleep. She'd been awake for over twenty-four hours and fear and adrenaline can only sustain one for so long.

She slept through Illinois and the golden fields of Iowa. She was dreaming of home as they passed into Nebraska. It was dark again when Klaus finally pulled off the road.

He parked the SUV in front of the lobby doors.

"Get her up," he called back to Hayley, cutting the engine and immediately exiting the car.

Hayley shook her daughter awake.

"We're here – I think."

"Here – where?"

Hope stared up at the neon vacancy sign flashing through her window.

"This is not my house," she frowned, recalling where she had spent her childhood with Rebekah. "There is no picket fence. I remember a fence."

Elijah had joined his brother beside the vehicle. Looking up at the rows of rooms, he furrowed his brow, perturbed at his brother's choice for tonight's lodging.

"Niklaus, is there really no place more dignified?"

"Says he who had us roughing it in the wilderness."

"In a furnished cabin in a scenic national park," Elijah voiced defensively, not that anyone was listening. Hayley and Hope had already vacated the vehicle and Leah was just now coming out of her sleepy stupor. Coming to stand beside him, she leaned in under his arm.

"Where are we now?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"We'll stay here until Rebekah chooses to cooperate," Klaus announced.

"You've got to be kidding," Hayley turned on him. "You really think some highway hotel's safe for our daughter?"

"_What _is it with the whining," he growled at her. "Honestly, I thought you would be jumping at the opportunity to stretch your legs."

"You said we would stop at a _safe house_, Klaus, not some cheap sketchy motel."

"I am doing the best given the circumstances," he shouted. "And for the record, I do not appreciate the lack of faith you've expressed towards my actions."

"You mean shanking your sister."

_"__Hayley,"_ he stepped in, forcing a hand on her shoulder. He was trying to make a sincere effort to explain his actions but the fear he had felt when Mikael had struck him down, had raised the stake over him, when he had been helpless to protect his daughter, those emotions were carried away with his words.

"– I did not _want _to dagger my sister… but I did it _for our daughter_. If I had let Rebekah run back to Philippe she would have distracted him, destroyed the containment spell, released Mikael on us – all to save his life. Now, I love my sister… but she allows love to blind her in those critical moments when it matters most. _I had no other choice_, Hayley - I love all my family but Hope – _is everything_."

Elijah cleared his throat, punctuating the awkward silence that had followed his brother's declaration.

Klaus and Hayley both turned to realize their conversation had been anything but private. Everyone was looking at them.

"Hope –" Klaus began, unable to continue under his daughter's harsh gaze.

She was glaring at him, angry tears in her eyes. She shook her head every so slightly in utter disapproval.

"Philippe didn't deserve this. Rebekah didn't deserve this. _I don't deserve this_… having to feel guilty every time you do something horrible in my name."

Turning back to the car, she yanked open the door, withdrew the dagger in Rebekah and whirling on her father shoved it forcefully at his chest.

"I _refuse_ to be your accomplice anymore."

Ignoring her father's shocked stare, Hope shoved past him and walked off alone across the parking lot. Klaus groaned in exasperation and Hayley glared at him, taking off after her daughter.

He was now left to face his brother's tired disappointment**.**

"What?" Klaus snapped. "Well, let me hear it."

"Perhaps we should figure out the matter of rooms before Rebekah revives …and this conversation is forced to continue."

"Hmm," Klaus agreed, grateful Elijah hadn't felt like backing up Hope for once. The last thing he needed was a two-pronged attack from Team Righteous.

"Um," began the wisp that was always clinging to his brother, "since we're talking room arrangements, maybe… so that Elijah and I can be in separate rooms - but still close by… we could get those rooms with the doors in between? We could maybe get a couple rooms…turn them into a suite…"

She let her sentence trail off into silence. The look Klaus shot her was a clear warning to shut up. The last thing he needed was more voices in this wretched conversation.

"It was just an idea…" Leah backed down.

"Well, here's an idea, why don't you –"

"Niklaus," Elijah cut him off, fearing how that sentence would end, "let's have you settle our rooms at the front desk. I will stay with the car in case Rebekah wakes."

Klaus yielded without protest. He wasn't exactly looking forward to being here when his sister came round.

The couple watched him disappear into the motel lobby. When they were sure he was out of earshot they both turned to each other, starting to speak at the exact same time.

"Don't –"

" - test my brother's patience."

"Oh," Leah realized, shuffling in her embarrassment. "I was gonna say 'don't get yourself daggered' but I guess that's good advice too. I wasn't doing that on purpose though. I was trying to be helpful."

"Let me deal with Niklaus. My brother is under a tremendous amount of pressure. He can become… unpredictable, especially in the face of a threat."

"He daggered Rebekah - that's not unpredictable. That's psychotic."

"I cannot control my brother, Leah, but I will protect you from him."

"Not if you're daggered. Not if you're dead."

Elijah knew exactly what she was feeling. The fear had yet to leave her eyes; every muscle in her body was tense under his touch as he placed a gentle hand on her neck, guiding her gaze toward his own.

"Perhaps it is best to put this behind us - _everything_, Leah, that happened last night. Can you do that, and not speak of it again?"

Everything? The car, the cabin, the beam, the tree - the lodge?

"Of course," she instantly agreed. "I can do that."

Leah had spoken without a thought. The truth hit her a second too late: never speak of it again - of course she couldn't do that!

She didn't _want _to do that.

She wanted to talk about it – how it all made her feel. She wanted him to understand how scared she was, and sorry she was, for being useless in the fight against Mikael.

She wanted to tell him that Philippe's death wasn't Klaus' fault – that Mikael's attack had been hers. She wanted to tell him he had been right.

She wanted to go back in time and undo it all. Why had she gone to that stupid lodge at all? What had come over her? The guilt of what she'd done now settled in her stomach; it was impossible to digest without someone to share her pain – without talking it through with Elijah.

So, no - she shouldn't have agreed to put that night behind them – but that was clearly what Elijah had wanted to hear. Her lie was immediately rewarded. He pulled her to him, relieved their shared secret had been so easily condemned to silence.

And not a moment too soon - his brother was returning.

"Everything alright, Niklaus?"

There was an obvious change in the hybrid's temper. He shuffled across the asphalt, hesitant as a boy shamed into returning a stolen treat.

"We're sorted," he walked up to Elijah.

"And Hope?"

"With her mother, I'm sure, still griping about my many offenses."

Which for his daughter's sake he would try to amend - starting now. Almost sheepishly, Klaus handed Elijah a white plastic card.

"Your room key," he explained plainly. "Take Leah and go – I'll watch over Rebekah. And brother - one more thing."

Klaus dug his hand into his jacket pocket.

Leah froze when she saw what it was he withdrew. She leaned in closer to Elijah, lacing her fingers with his hand protectively, ready to step in if Klaus made a move to use it.

Instead, he merely passed it over, handle first.

Elijah received the dagger cautiously.

"You're giving this to me?"

"Are you not the keeper of our family heirlooms?"

Elijah was stunned, if not suspicious, of Niklaus' willingness to voluntarily give up power. He flipped the silver weapon in his hand, still unconvinced this wasn't a trick.

"Why?" he stated simply, staring into his brother's eyes.

"Why do I do anything?" Klaus huffed. "For Hope."

**AN: Welcome to act three! Who knows what kind of drama is about to unfold. As always, I appreciate your reviews, theories and thoughts :D**


	16. Spare the Rod

An hour later Elijah met his brother at the base of the motel stairs.

"Niklaus," he opened, taking the railing in hand. "It's late. I assumed you had already turned in for the evening."

"Not when there's work to be done. We move out whenever our baby sister decides to play nice again."

"Then Rebekah's awake."

"And furious. And unreasonable. And refuses to leave the car."

"She is grieving, Niklaus. Give her time."

"We don't _have _time - or have you forgotten Mikael may be hours behind us? But if you think I'm being far too insensitive then by all means try your luck with our sister..."

Klaus did not miss the longing glance his brother cast toward his room.

"...or are you otherwise preoccupied?" he added pointedly.

Elijah sighed and reluctantly surrendered his full attention.

"What is it, Niklaus? Clearly you have something to say."

"Oh several volumes worth but let's start with the one thing that's been nagging me since Pennsylvania – where were you, brother, when Mikael attacked?"

Elijah exhaled slowly, regretting this conversation already.

"I was searching for Leah," he admitted stiffly.

"Across the entire bloody state? You were gone for _hours_."

He remained silent, not wishing to discuss this right now – or at all.

Klaus, however, could read his brother's silence loud and clear.

"So my suspicions are correct. Leah was combing the forest for campers? Oh come, Elijah – don't scowl. It's an obvious conclusion. I could smell the blood on her before I'd even seen her clothes."

Elijah remained stone-faced as his brother stepped in closer.

"If Leah can't follow directions then she and I are going to have a problem because the last time I checked 'don't leave the cabin' meant 'don't leave the bloody cabin.'"

"What exactly is your point?"

"Well I thought that was fairly obvious: if you hadn't been off chasing Leah through the woods when Mikael attacked then you would have been where you were supposed to be – by my side, protecting our family."

"I understand your frustration, Niklaus, because there remain questions about that night without answers... but I _strongly_ urge you not to go looking for them in Leah. Leave her out of this."

With firm finality he pushed past his brother and took to the stairs. Klaus called up to him nonetheless.

"Consider my suggestion, Elijah - spare us all and send her home."

**/**

It was before noon the next day when Klaus passed Leah on the balcony - out of her room.

_Bloody unbelievable._

Leah fumbled with her key card as Klaus stared her down. She was uneasy under his gaze.

This was not ideal; her clothes were still splattered in blood. Last night she had tried to scrub it out in the bathroom sink but when she donned the shirt this morning the telltale stains were still brightly visible across the light fabric.

She was now returning to her room, the ice bucket under her arm.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she ventured.

"Actually, there is."

Klaus watched as the little light on the reader turned red and failed to accept her card. Before she could try it again he'd snatched it out of her hand.

_"What now?_" Leah snapped, turning on him.

"Have you perhaps lost your mind?"

"Have you?" she sighed, snatching the card back and glaring at Klaus.

"I only ask," he continued, growing more serious, "because I remember last night telling everyone quite explicitly that they are not to leave their rooms under any circumstance. And yet here you are trotting back from… clearly not being in your room. And so the only reason I can fathom for such deliberate disobedience is that you have gone _quite mad_."

She rolled her eyes, moving the bucket to the other arm.

"I'm not trying to get us all killed. I'm just trying to make sure we have ice."

Klaus didn't budge.

"I can't have the other guests seeing you a mess. We need to get you something new to wear."

"Elijah's seeing to that now."

"And what about my sister? Did Rebekah at last come to her senses and join you in the night?"

Leah surrendered to the fact that the ice would all be melted by the time Klaus let her go. This was probably her punishment for leaving her room in the first place.

"Actually yes," she rattled off, "she did. And she told me to tell you she doesn't want to talk to you or even see your face and she will never tell you what you want to know…and there was something else in there but it was lost in a long string of expletives."

"Typical Rebekah."

"Really, is it typical for someone to cry nonstop? Her husband is dead! She was inconsolable the entire night…and I can't talk to her: I don't know the first thing about what she needs to hear right now."

"That's what my brother's for. I was hoping he would have talked to her last night — calm her down a bit."

"How could he when he's been your errand boy all night?"

"Time is critical. There are things we must accomplish before Mikael finds us again."

"And you can't do any of it yourself?"

"Elijah's expertise is required. I've put him in charge of the passports."

"Oh - right. I forgot. You want us in witness protection."

"Am I sensing…_ungratefulness, _Leah, for all I am doing to keep you safe?"

"Can't you do your own dirty work?"

"I _need _Elijah to get us out of the country," Klaus explained. "There's always a certain amount of illegality to these sorts of things and my brother is ever so talented when it comes to duplicitous diplomacy."

"And what does Elijah know about forging travel documents?"

"He has contacts in the State Department. I need them to pull some strings for us…speaking of which: how do you feel about being Russian?"

"What? No, I'm not from Russia and I'm not fleeing the country. This is my home."

"Oh Leah," he chuckled. "You're a vampire now – a hybrid. You're immortal. Such trivial considerations such as nationality mean nothing anymore. There are no more labels, no more limitations. You have seen the world, Leah, and in your long lifetime you will call all the great cities of the world your home. So let's not get too fussy over one falsified document, shall we?"

"I just didn't realize being a vampire meant so much paperwork."

"A big part of being immortal is learning to cover your tracks throughout time. And speaking of covering your tracks – I do hope you properly took care of whatever carnage you clearly caused the other night."

He stared pointedly at her shirt. She really wanted to burn the damn thing.

"I'm all about being a hybrid, Leah, but you picked the _worst_ possible time to embrace who you are."

"This is not who I am," she confessed with confidence. "This was a mistake. It won't happen again."

He rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Let's not go down the road of the martyr, it's an unattractive habit, though hardly a surprise: your self-flagellation reeks of my brother's influence. I always suspected he had you on a very short leash when it came to your true nature. I assume it's only a matter of time before you end up hanging yourself with it…but unlike my brother, I won't let you take my family down with you."

She tensed under his tirade, flushing with angry humiliation.

"Where's this coming from? Has Elijah said something?"

"I'll say it once more," he ignored her. "Stay put, Leah. My brother can't focus on what he needs to do if he's constantly watching over you."

"He doesn't," she snapped, her pride once again wounded.

"So you believe Elijah trusts you?"

_"With everything."_

"To be alone? To be alone with yourself?"

"_Yes," _she threw out, disgusted to even be dignifying his question with an answer.

"So tell me then: did my brother not move you away from New Orleans and Hope, Hayley and I – the only other hybrids in existence?"

She was completely confused where he was going with these questions.

"No—it was my choice, entirely, to move to Boston, and to be honest it was more just to get away from _you."_

"And did he not find himself a position on the same campus on which you attend classes?"

"Elijah has a passion – and a talent – for government and politics."

"And on the day we arrived in Pennsylvania, did he not forbid you to go into town alone?"

"He didn't forbid me, Klaus. It was a more of a suggestion. And anyway, Mikael was out there…"

"Elijah, would never have let you step foot outside that cabin if he had truly thought Mikael was anywhere other than still in New Orleans."

The condensation caused her fingers to slip on the bucket and she blew out an impatient breath.

"Is there a point to this, Klaus? The ice is melting."

"You know what, you're right, never mind me. On second thought, I'm sure my brother has a reason for his overbearing concern. He usually thinks he does."

"…are you done?"

"Stay in your room, Leah. I won't ask again."

He finally backed off, stepping aside to let her access the card reader. She pushed open the door and slid herself through. Slamming it closed behind her, Leah exhaled deeply. Her head still ached from having to listen to Klaus' pointless prattling.

Opening her eyes, she shook the bucket at her roommate.

"Ice…or what's left of it."

Rebekah drew her head up from her pillow. She was dried eyed at last but her usually sunny face was still sullen. Heaving herself into a sitting position, she watched Leah intently as she set down the ice bucket and pulled two plastic cups from a sleeve on the desk.

Filling one with the cold water from the bucket, Leah handed it over.

"Ignore my brother," Rebekah advised with quite a bit of bitterness. She willingly accepted the cup from the young hybrid. "He's in a particularly spiteful mood. He'll say anything to make himself feel more in control…or to get what he wants."

Leah realized what she was referring to and slumped onto the bed opposite.

"You heard all that? Oh course, vamp hearing."

She glanced up at the door that joined their room with the one next door. It was currently closed but could be opened to transform the two rooms into a single suite. Rebekah, of course, had demanded that it stay shut and locked, finding solace in the fact that only Leah and Elijah had key cards to her room.

For example, at the moment there was a tiny mechanic _clink _as the reader registered a key, unlocking the door for Elijah to enter.

He looked stressed and overworked and in an awful hurry.

"You're back," Leah breathed, standing as he entered. Yesterday's ruined and bloody shirt had been replaced - in fact, Elijah was completely transformed from top to bottom. All evidence of their week in the woods had been erased. He was not only clean-shaven once more, but also back in a crisp, dark suit, a sure indication that it was indeed time to get down to business.

The conversation with Klaus still weighed heavy on Leah's mind but Elijah was already too busy to hear her complaints. From one hand dangled bags sporting various labels from clothing stores and in the other he balanced a set of keys and a smart phone. It had been going off incessantly since he'd walked in.

Elijah heaped all of it onto the writing desk by the door, letting the bags spill across the tabletop as he pulled the phone from beneath them. Rebekah moved like a poltergeist across the room, silently taking it upon herself to move everything off the table. One by one she emptied the contents of the bags onto the bed.

Leah was more interested in Elijah and the text messages that kept coming through, more by the second. She crossed the room, wondering what was drawing his attention. He looked up from his phone as she approached, smiling.

"Clothes," he announced, gesturing with his phone toward the bed.

"Yeah, I see. Thanks. Just what we needed."

"Good," he confirmed, kissing her on the cheek before almost immediately retracing his steps back out of the room.

She followed him to the door.

"Hey, wait, where are you going? You just got back."

"Niklaus needs me," he admitted briskly. He flashed her his texts as proof. The phone was new; it must have been acquired, or stolen, sometime since last night. Even as he stood there it pinged to notify Elijah that his brother had sent him yet another urgent message.

Drawing his eyes away from the screen, he noticed the latch was on the door that adjoined the two rooms.

"Why is this locked?"

Leah shrugged, nevertheless turning her gaze toward Rebekah who was already hunting through the bags her brother had brought. Elijah was glad to see his sister up and about – he had been out of the room through the dark hours of the morning but knew she had cried her way through each of them.

"Just make sure those get around to Hope and Hayley," Elijah turned back to Leah, indicating the shopping bags. His phone pinged again and he made for the door.

"Elijah, wait, _where are you going?"_

"Has something happened in my absence? Niklaus is insistent that I meet with him immediately to discuss the matter of our expatriation."

"Um…" Leah wavered, wondering what to reveal. "I don't think so…but he did ask me if I wanted to be Russian?"

"Ah," he realized, grasping the handle. "This is about the passports then."

She ran after Elijah, reaching him just as he stepped through the door.

"Don't leave me in here all day all alone."

"You're not alone. You have Rebekah."

"Elijah, _please."_

"I will be back, I just need to see to this with Niklaus. Try to get some rest. You were up all night."

"I was _kept _up all night," she muttered under her breath.

Elijah spared a second to look Leah up and down, realizing from the slouch of her shoulders that she was not entirely comfortable with sharing a room with his sister.

"You are safe with Rebekah. Or is something else bothering you?"

_Ping._

_Ping ping ping._

"I'm sorry, Leah, one second."

Elijah's eyes flickered back down to his phone as messages kept coming through. When he didn't answer it began to ring.

Requesting her patience, Elijah took the call.

"Niklaus, once is quite enough. What is it now? Yes, I will be right there."

He tapped the end-call button with such aggression Leah thought the screen would crack.

"I have to go. Whatever it is, Leah, we'll talk about this later."

"But Elijah—"

"Stay with Rebekah."


	17. An Education Part I

'Stay with Rebekah' was easier said than done.

Why had Elijah left her all day with his sister? Was this part of her punishment for leaving the room this morning? If she had thought Klaus' invasive questions were unbearable Leah hadn't realized the fate in store for her later that day. Rebekah's anger, which since last night had melted into tears and then faded into silence, had now come back around full force.

Leah blamed Klaus for setting her off - she certainly hadn't done anything wrong.

All she had done was ask Klaus for Elijah's cell number when he had returned that afternoon - without his brother and without a straight answer to any of her questions. Elijah had been gone for hours and Leah could only imagine doing what. If Hope still had her cell phone then maybe there was a way to cut Klaus out of the equation all together.

Unsurprisingly, this innocent request had blown up in her face and turned into an argument which had ended in Rebekah shoving Klaus out of the room and slamming the door in his face.

And that's how Leah found herself enrolled in 'Klaus is a Monster 101'. She wasn't even given the chance to tell her over-passionate teacher that she knew this subject already quite well. She didn't need this year by year history of every insult and injury Klaus had ever committed but Rebekah was nevertheless eager to educate - in loud, abusive tones with several creative swears Leah had never heard before.

So at least she was learning _something _new.

Rebekah's rant had been going on for over an hour. It had grown too tedious for Leah to even pretend to listen to anymore; soon she would either be driven out of her mind or simply out of the room entirely.

It was now eight at night and Rebekah didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon. Leah sighed, rolling back onto her bed and staring up at the ceiling. She had changed into the clothes Elijah had brought but it was too hot for the woolen long-sleeved shirt she had chosen from the pile… and if this room had air conditioning it was most certainly broken. To make matters worse, Leah was so hungry she could drain a horse. She had to wonder why no one else had yet to demand they order a pizza or a pizza boy - or _something._

Her body was all tense, wired, spun into a coil so tightly it threatened to burst at the slightest disruption. Leah felt like she was going to snap, a rubber band that had been stretched too far over the last few days. She sometimes wished she smoked, or had picked up the habit back when she was human, anything that might take off the edge of her cravings.

Drinking was the most common trick for sublimating, a cheat for unwinding the coil before it sprung free and ended up lodged in someone's throat. A stiff drink might help, but this motel was so cheap there wasn't even a minibar in the room. She wondered whether this place might have some sort of kitchen and whether she could get a drink there of either sort…

"Leah," Rebekah shouted across the room, "are you listening? I am talking to you."

She lifted her head with heavy sigh.

"Yes, of course…yeah, I got that…Klaus is a horrible, horrible person."

"I'm not talking about Klaus, Leah. I'm talking about_ Elijah._"

That got her up. Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, Leah started to pay attention again.

"Okay, maybe I did zone out there for a second. I'm sorry. I'm listening."

"I was saying Klaus left Philippe behind and Elijah let him."

"Uh…um…" Leah struggled, trying to be sensitive but factual. "I mean, wasn't Elijah just following the plan?"

"Don't you get it, Leah, there is no blasted plan! Ever! There's only what Klaus wants and when Klaus wants it, and damn anyone to hell who stands in his way. He is a _monster_ and Elijah always stands at his side - and that makes him just as dangerous."

"Elijah said to trust him and I do. He loves me. He would never put me in danger."

"Have you been listening to _anything_ I've said? This is not about love, Leah…this is about a promise Elijah made to his brother a thousand years ago and the terrible things he will do to honor it, even now - especially now. With Mikael out there, no one is worth protecting more to Elijah than Klaus."

"Why do I feel like you're making some sort of public safety announcement?"

"Because I'm warning you that you need to look out for yourself. Don't assume Elijah will spare you if push comes to shove against Mikael."

"No - he would never. He's not Klaus."

"Leah!" Rebekah shouted, causing her to jump. _"Stop making excuses for Elijah!" _

"I'm not! You're the one blaming him for something he didn't do. It's not his fault Philippe is dead!"

Leah froze. Rebekah's eyes flickered with lightning and for a moment Leah was terrified she was going to strike her.

"I'm sorry -"

"Don't be," she snapped. "You're too stupid to know any better – clearly I'm wasting my time trying to save you from the same fate as Philippe."

There was a moment of silence between them.

"Look, Rebekah, I am really, truly sorry about your husband. You guys just flew in for Hope's party. You never expected to be caught up in all of this. You two shouldn't have even been out there in the woods with us - none of us should have been out there…"

"And that is why I am trying to warn you – this is not your fight, Leah. Mikael is not your father. At the end of the day Klaus cares about Klaus and he will not hesitate to sacrifice you for his own success."

"He wouldn't dare. Elijah wouldn't let him."

"And what about Philippe? Do you think I just _let_ that happen? _Do you think I put that dagger in my own heart?_ You have not been with this family long enough, Leah, you have not seen the monster that Klaus can become. Mikael brings out the worst in him. Please listen when I tell you: if you get the opportunity to leave—take it."

_"I won't leave Elijah."_

"Then you are _a fool_, Leah, a damned fool. Elijah will ruin you; do you hear me? There will come a time when he will choose our brother over you and he will break your heart - just as surely as he has broken mine."

Leah bit her lip; it was starting to tremble.

"Rebekah, that's just not true. Elijah would never - "

"I have lived a _thousand _years, Leah. Don't for a second think you know Elijah better than I. Five years is nothing in the long run of our lives. Lovers have come and gone and time alone does not win my brother's heart."

"What are you saying?" she begged, a tear falling down her cheek.

"Save yourself the heartache and leave while you're still alive."

Now Leah was crying. She could never understand why miserable people always wanted to make everyone around them just as miserable. Certainly that was the only explanation she could reason for why Rebekah was being so cruel because none of it was possibly true. Klaus was the most powerful and feared creature in the world – why on earth would Elijah abandon her to protect him?

Rebekah continued staring at Leah, arms crossed, daring her to keep crying. If she had thought that Klaus was being spiteful earlier, she surely hadn't looked in the mirror any time soon.

They both turned at the sound of a sliding bolt to see the door between their rooms open wide.

It was Hayley.

"What is up with all the yelling? Hope is trying to sleep."

She was humiliated to be crying in front of everyone. No doubt Hayley had heard the argument as well. Jumping from the bed, Leah hid her tearful face as she fumbled to ease on her shoes.

Hayley rolled her eyes. This girl could simply not sit still.

"I'm sorry - are you going somewhere?"

"_Out_," Leah snapped, scampering over the bed to grab the key card from the nightstand.

"You're not supposed to leave," Hayley blandly reminded, watching Leah head for the door.

"Well, no way in hell am I staying in here with _her_," she pointed at Rebekah.

"Then that works out lovely," she turned to Hayley, "'cause I'm not here to teach her things she doesn't want to know."


	18. An Education Part II

The double doors of the lobby opened onto the smell of stale cigarettes and chlorine. The carpeting was a pattern of orange and red that personally insulted even Leah's sensibilities. The night manager leaned against the front desk; he raised his eyes from his Sudoku book only long enough to scan her top to bottom and realize she was out of his league.

Off the lobby was a sorry excuse for a gift shop. There was a lock on the door, a gate rolled down in front. It was only a matter of compelling the manager to open up the shop for her personal perusal. She thanked him, ordering him to look the other way as she took advantage of a five-finger discount.

She had been hoping for the little bottles of alcohol they give you on planes. Instead, Leah found a bunch of junk food that was probably years past its expiration date: Twinkies, bags of chips, sticks of jerky and cans of pop. There were also tiny displays of touristy stuff, little flashlights, dangly key chains, and something else she hadn't realized she needed until she saw it: a short-sleeve shirt.

With no shame in stripping, Leah eagerly changed out of her stuffy wool blouse. The t-shirt now claimed her a proud supporter of the University of Nebraska at Omaha.

She tried to enjoy the coolness of the cotton but her blood still ran hot with hunger.

It drove her out of the shop and back into the lobby. Leah thought the pulsing in her ears was the sound of her own blood until she realized she was fixating on the vein in the neck of the man behind the desk.

She could do this, Leah told herself, and not mess it up.

Maybe - but she decided the risk was too high. The satisfaction of a quick bite wasn't worth the effort of trying not to kill her dinner - or the comments Klaus would send her way if she got blood on her brand new shirt.

So instead, stopping by the front desk on her way out, Leah stuck her hand into a big bowl of mints. Throwing the handful into her mouth, she pocketed the rest for later - perhaps the sugar would satisfy her hunger.

The radio was on low and the music poured into the lobby like a soporific gas. It followed her out into the night as she opened the doors back to the parking lot.

_"Baby, you're a northern light; guide me through this endless night. When my dreams are full of fear, baby let me know you're here. All the stars up in the sky don't hold a candle to your eyes. So tell me now and don't you lie – is this the time to say goodbye?"_

It was a song she knew by heart. Leah hummed the tune as she took a right and headed out back toward the pool. The underwater lights illuminated the dark water; it calmed her to just walk around the edge, aimlessly wasting time in an effort not to return to her room and Rebekah.

She looked up from the water at the sound of wheels over asphalt. It distracted Leah just long enough that she remembered the soda machine down here next to the place where she had gotten the ice. It wasn't alcohol but maybe some caffeine would numb her cravings for a bit.

Of course, reaching the machine Leah realized she had absolutely no money on her. With a sigh she resigned herself to head back upstairs before Klaus came out of hiding and caught her.

Passing back around by the pool, Leah stopped to pull herself together. She had lasted about fifteen minutes but that jittery, unsettled feeling had returned. Plopping the reserve of mints into her mouth, she inhaled the warm night air, trying to calm her nerves with some steady breathing. The mints burned as they dissolved in the back of her throat.

"There you are."

"Elijah!"

He stepped quickly around the pool to reach her, raising one arm to gesture her away from the water.

"Why are you down here alone?"

"I got hungry."

She was expecting a welcoming smile. Instead his face looked tense and exhausted.

"Leah—"

"I was getting a soda," she interjected, jumping to her own defense. "That's all, just…getting something to drink. But then I forgot I don't have a cent on me so now I just look stupid."

"Are you done?" he asked, reaching for her.

She wasn't quite sure what he meant or why he sounded so annoyed.

"Uh…I guess?"

"Good," he took her hand. "Upstairs, come on."

He only let go when they had reached the upper balcony. As they approached their room, Leah hung back, dragging her feet.

"Actually can we just stay out here for a bit?"

Pocketing his key card, Elijah nodded, placing his hand on her back and guiding her toward the railing.

"Certainly - I feel I owe you that. I am sorry I have been away all day…there were matters that needed my attention."

"Yeah – your brother filled me in on the details."

"I am yours now," he smiled, lost momentarily by the moonlight on her face, "and I am pleased to see you have kept yourself out of trouble - mostly."

It was a gentle but pointed observation and she ignored it entirely, her eyes wandering across the parking lot. Leah was about to notice something about the cars below when Elijah drew her attention away, pulling her back from the railing and into his arms.

"It's fortunate we have found this time alone, Leah. I had thought the two of us could talk about the night at the lodge."

"You told me to put that behind us," she reminded him.

"But my brother has been asking questions about the night Mikael attacked. You'll need to tell him something if he brings it up – otherwise he will automatically assume the worst."

"The worst?"

"Just refer him to me. I will deal with Niklaus."

"I don't understand – how Mikael found us."

"That's why we need to keep moving."

Leah placed a hand on his chest, covering the spot where Mikael had attacked him. It was recalling silenced memories that demanded to be spoken.

"I thought he had killed you. When I saw the wood so close to your heart… I have never been so scared."

Elijah stroked her cheek, hoping to easily settle her fears. He tilted her chin so she could see the assurance in his eyes.

"Has that been bothering you, Leah? My dear, you have nothing to fear – I am quite alive."

"But then he threw you into that tree like it was _nothing._ Elijah, I heard your bones _shatter._ I thought Mikael was going to kill you…"

"I cannot be killed so easily, Leah. Only the White Oak—"

"He _had_ the White Oak," she cried. "Don't trivialize this, Elijah. Mikael had it in his hand and he was going to use that stake on you so don't stand here and tell me you can't be killed."

She hadn't realized she had raised her voice until another couple appeared on the balcony, casting odd glances at they walked down the hall. Leah leaned into Elijah, hiding her face in his chest as they passed.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered into her hair.

"You can't say that. You don't know that."

"There are some things I know."

When he leaned down to kiss her Elijah felt the trepidation on her lips.

"Leah, what is it?"

"I want to go home."

He sighed.

"We've discussed this."

"We didn't discuss anything. You just said no."

"You want something that is simply not possible."

"But it is, Elijah. _We can leave_ – just you and me."

"It's not just you and me, Leah – Mikael is hunting us all."

She shook her head adamantly, pulling away angrily.

"Mikael wants _Klaus_ and he will go through you - through anyone - who stands in his way. I don't care if it makes me a horrible, selfish person but I won't lose you to save your brother. If I have to kill Mikael myself I will not lose you, Elijah."

"You will not lose me," he promised, "but we cannot leave. Not right now."

He clasped her hand against his chest, his eyes seeking hers.

"Leah, please understand why I have to stay with Niklaus and see this plan through."

_"I don't,"_ she admitted freely. "I don't get why Philippe and Rebekah had to be dragged into this and I don't get why Hope has to feel guilty all the time and I don't get why you couldn't find ten minutes to talk to me today."

"I was helping my brother –"

"Then let him get help from someone else! He has the stake, his hybrid powers, a network of werewolves and witches and vampires who can help him stop Mikael—why does he have to have you too?"

"Because family stands by each other in times of trouble, Leah."

She pulled her hand out of his, suddenly furious.

"Klaus is _not _my family."

"But he is _mine_," Elijah snapped, "which indeed makes him yours."

The sounds of a distant television echoed in the silence that followed. Leah cast her eyes aside, refusing to meet his, biting her lip in anger. Elijah let his hands fall from her, stepping back with a deep exhale as his phone began to vibrate in his pocket.

He answered, his voice pitched in frustration.

"Niklaus, I'm with – no, I - "

Dropping the phone from his ear, he flew to the railing and looking over, scanned the parking lot below.

Leah heard him curse under his breath and turned around in confusion.

"I'll be there shortly," Elijah told his brother, ending the call abruptly.

"We have a problem," he barely managed to tell Leah before taking off down the hall. "I need you to stay in the room until I come back."

"Tell me!" she demanded, calling after him. "What's going on?"

"Rebekah is missing."


	19. A Million Little Pieces

Leah paced back and forth across the empty room. She paused to listen again, straining her ears for the sound of Elijah's return. Everyone had left her behind to spread out and search for Rebekah.

There was a knock on the door - maybe they had found her. Leah slid free the bolt.

Her friend stood there with her mother.

"Hope – what's going on? Did you find your aunt?"

"Didn't Elijah?"

"I don't know. He's not back yet."

"Neither is my dad."

"I doubt they'll find her," said Hayley. "Rebekah had a good head start with the car."

"She took our car?" Leah balked. "Did she leave to search for Philippe?"

"Let's not bring up Philippe around Klaus."

"Well, what now then? Does he want us to turn around and go after her?"

"It's his sister, Leah. What do you think?"

They all turned. There had been a very loud slam from the other room; the walls were actually shaking.

Klaus appeared behind them in the doorway - livid.

_"__This is your fault," _he snarled at Leah.

"Yeah – _what? _How is this _my_ fault?"

"Rebekah is gone because of _you_."

"I did nothing!"

"Exactly! You were supposed to _stop her_ if she tried to leave."

"Whoa – did _not _get that memo, Klaus."

"How did you let this happen? You were in the room with her all day, were you not?"

"Hey - all I know is that Rebekah was definitely still here when I left the room like an hour ago."

"When_ you what?"_

The front door flew open; it was Elijah…without Rebekah. He had failed to find her as well.

He saw how his brother loomed over Leah.

"She is not your scapegoat, Niklaus."

"I _warned_ you we would have a problem, brother."

"Whatever he has told you," Elijah approached her. "Ignore my brother, Leah. You do not need to listen to him."

"She doesn't listen to _anyone_! That's the bloody problem!"

"Niklaus, we have already discussed this and I refuse to listen to your nonsense."

"You refuse to listen to the _truth. _She's a _liability,_ Elijah_. _However you control her – _do it."_

_"__I am warning you, brother."_

"Or," Klaus ignored him, "do you simply lack the ability altogether? You certainly weren't able to stop her from slaughtering that busload of tourists."

Leah froze, swallowing hard. Hope gasped loudly.

"That was you? Oh my God, Leah – _that was you_?"

Klaus jeered at his daughter's astonishment.

"Didn't you know, love? Your friend fancies herself a ripper."

Leah flinched at the word and the hurt on Hope's face.

"Hope, I can explain – "

"You _lied _to me, Leah?"

"I didn't lie…"

"To my face! You _said_ that wasn't you in Naples. You said you've never even been there!"

"Oh, she most certainly has," Klaus sneered. "What do they call you, Leah? _La squartatrice di Napoli_…"

"Don't," she pleaded.

"_Don't indeed._ Far be it from me to shatter the illusion that prevents everyone from seeing what you truly are."

The shock on Hope's face turned to pity. She tried to tug her father away.

"Dad – just leave her alone."

_"Get her out of here,"_ he ordered Hayley, now rounding on his brother.

"How long, Elijah, are you going to pretend there's nothing wrong with her? How long must this farce continue?"

"You will leave Leah out of this, Niklaus."

"_How _\- when she is constantly in the middle of _everything_? Since those witches dropped dead at Hope's party I knew she was an ill omen. You should never have brought her with us. I told you, brother - _send her home."_

Elijah glanced toward Leah; she stared back in wounded anguish.

"He knows about Naples…"

"Oh, I know _everything_," Klaus raged at her. "I know _all _the trouble you've been causing for months: reckless behavior, uncontrollable cravings, numerous casualties…"

"_Niklaus_," Elijah warned dangerously but Klaus continued to fume.

"What a curse you are to my brother, Leah - and now to me. Because of you we must drive back into danger and look for my sister - and if something happens to my daughter because of your recklessness, mark my words I will readily go through my brother to ensure your everlasting torment."

Klaus was blindsided as Elijah slammed him against the dresser.

_"__Do not - _ever - _ threaten her again."_

With hybrid strength, Klaus shoved his brother away.

"We are going after our sister," he leveled angrily, "and you _will _join me in the hunt."

He stormed away, grabbing Hope from the doorway and pulling her out of the room.

The door rattled closed behind them. Silence.

Leah was holding back tears when Elijah turned to apologize.

"You told your brother about Naples? You_ promised_ me you wouldn't tell him."

"I said not a word," he assured her.

"Then _how_ does Klaus know?"

"Your actions were far from discreet, Leah – I didn't have to tell him a thing."

She began to breathe hard, pacing frantically in front of him.

"And now Hope knows," she panicked. "Elijah, you knew what it meant that she never found out."

"Hope is your friend. She will understand – "

"And you? Do you understand? No - you want to send me home!"

"_My brother_ persists with the issue. I refuse it entirely, Leah."

"So all those things your brother said…you've discussed them with him before, haven't you? You talk to him about me."

"Niklaus talks nonsense."

"And you can't help but listen, can you? Do you believe what Klaus says? Do you agree with him?"

"Leah, I urge you – ignore my brother."

"It's a little too late for that," she admitted as the first tear fell down her cheek.

Elijah felt his chest constrict and immediately moved forward to comfort her.

She refused his touch, stepping aside and turning away.

Her withdrawal pained him.

"Leah, what would you have me do?"

"Just - go find your sister. Help your brother find Rebekah."

"Leah, I apologize for his behavior – "

"Don't – just help him. Your family needs you more right now."

He pressed his lips to her forehead, a tender kiss and a temporary goodbye.

"I will come back for you."

Elijah lingered in the doorway, hesitating, turning around to say something more.

The words never came. Leah nodded in understanding.

"Just go."


	20. The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

The wind slapped Leah in the face, drying her tears as she sped the stolen car down the highway.

She had left. She was going home before he sent her home.

A sign up ahead announced the town of Fremont but Leah didn't know if she could make it that far. She needed to stop before her hungry caused an accident; it had never been this bad, this constant - it was all she could think about and was starting to distract her from driving.

Her hands shook on the wheel. Her foot was heavy on the gas. Leah could barely focus on the road ahead. It slithered before her like some long black snake, luring her into a trance as she followed its torturous rolls. The car began to drift...

She didn't even hear the other car's horn. It was not until its headlights blinded her that Leah realized she was in the wrong lane. She pulled hard on the wheel -

She almost wished they'd collided; what was a little more pain when her heart ached so much already? Too late she had realized Rebekah's warning was a prophecy – she had said he would and he had. Elijah had broken her heart.

Self-preservation held the pieces together - that's why she was running. She could not stay to watch the love fade from his eyes – it would shatter what remained of her heart. She was a hybrid, she was immortal - she could survive many things but not that.

Leah veered right, screeching into the parking lot. The bar was humming with activity on a Saturday night. She needed something with enough alcohol to kill these emotions before they drove her off the road.

She tucked the motel manager's keys into her back pocket and pushed open the doors. The bar was loud with chattering and tunes but a quiet rose up as she entered. Heads turned from every direction; her University of Nebraska shirt was clearly not helping her blend with the locals. Ignoring the stares she took a seat at the bar.

A heavy-set guy in a red plaid shirt came over to take her order with rag and mug in hand.

"What can I get you, miss?"

"Vodka - straight. The best you've got."

"ID?"

"You don't need to see it," she worked her compulsion.

"You got it, sweetheart."

He turned to wash out a clean glass for her.

"You from out of town?"

"You could say that."

"We don't get many strangers around here but welcome. Let me know if I can get you anything else."

"Just the drink."

Mercifully, he left her alone after that. She downed the vodka, closing her eyes and waiting for the cravings to subside.

Leah sensed him taking the seat next to her and frowned.

"What's a girl like you doing way out here all alone?"

"Seriously, does that ever work?" she scoffed, pushing away her empty glass. It was like all the men in her life were trying their hardest to make her give up the gender all together.

This one was tall and younger, broadly built like a football player or a farmer boy. He ordered up a beer and another round for her and smiled slyly at the death glare she shot him in return. It was apparently turning him on.

"So what's your name, doll face?"

"You really don't want to start with me tonight."

He chuckled, taking her cold open as a challenge.

"You got pretty hair, you know that? Can I touch it?"

_"__Are you for real?"_

His buddies over in one of the booths had heard her. They began to laugh loudly and shout encouragements at their friend.

She was clearly tonight's entertainment. Emboldened, the boy tried again.

"Now - what's a red hot young thing like you got to drink about? Boyfriend troubles?"

Leah could barely resist the urge to cringe at his lame pick-up line – that and the urge to tear his head off. The cravings had not gone away.

"My boyfriend's an asshole," she revealed, eagerly taking up the drink set before her. She drained it in one go but the hunger only seemed to be growing.

_Was this really their strongest liquor? _

"Well that's nothing to cry over," he continued, setting down his own drink. "Just get a new one. Problem solved."

In the next moment his hand was on her knee.

_"__Remove it,"_ Leah growled, still as the grave.

"Are you sure that's what you want, ginger snap?"

He moved to slide his hand up her leg but ended up howling, his wrist between her fingers as she grabbed it with all her strength and yanked it away. The boy muttered a string of obscenities as Leah twisted his wrist so far the bone threatened to snap.

People had stopped their conversations and were now looking over from the seats by the window and down along the bar.

"Is there a problem here?" the bartender asked, looking between the two.

"Nope," Leah grinned, holding his wrist out of sight under the counter. "But a refill would be nice."

"_Who_ _are you?"_ her harasser demanded, wincing painfully.

"Someone who would _love _to be left alone," she answered, dropping his hand. He cradled it to his chest, looking at her with a mix of confusion, fear, and disgust.

He accosted the bartender who was just now returning with Leah's third drink.

"I think she's ruined my throwing hand, Rooney. You gonna let this slut get away with that in your bar?"

_"__What!?"_ Leah hissed. This guy clearly didn't realize he was starting shit with a pissed off hybrid. "Listen, you lame-ass excuse for a human_, _don't you ever –"

He cut her off, grabbing her upper arm roughly with his good hand.

"This is why you need someone like me to teach you some manners."

_Oh hell no._

The itch in her gums was finally satisfied as Leah sank her fangs into his neck. Dark lines etched across her pale face as she drank long and hard, ignoring the panicked screams and the frantic shuffling around her.

She had been so hungry and he tasted _so good._

Reality crashed down when the breeze from the open door reached her. People were escaping - they had all seen her feeding. Letting the body fall to the floor, Leah sped to the door, blocking the exit for those who had yet to leave.

"No one's going anywhere," she heaved, unsure of what to do. "Sit down!"

They all did. She didn't even have to compel them; fear was an equally persuasive motivator.

Barring the doorway, Leah tried to think fast. Okay, so let's reflect: feeding in the middle of a crowded bar – not her best move. She could practically hear Elijah's voice in her head.

Her eyes must have been glowing because a new wave of horror rippled through the bar. Leah doubted they had vampire hunters in Nebraska but she didn't need the police – or worse, that local news team – spreading this story to the rest of the country.

Her stomach churned at the thought of Mikael finding them again.

She had to fix this - now. Glaring at the patrons to make sure they kept their seats Leah left the door and ran back over to the boy she had fed on. Crouching down between the stools she found him laying on the floor.

Placing two fingers on his neck Leah felt a pulse and thanked every saint she remembered that he was still alive. She wasn't so sure he deserved to be healed but she was running low on karma points. She fed him her blood.

Standing back up Leah was greeted with a hunting rifle in her face.

"Now - I don't know what the hell you are," Rooney shouted, adjusting the gun on his shoulder, "but I will blow your head off if you don't leave right now."

Forgetting for a second that she was an immortal supernatural creature, Leah stood there with her hands up.

"Leave, you devil woman," he repeated, his finger pressing lightly on the trigger.

Leah hesitated. She would gladly leave but doing so without compelling everyone would end in a bigger disaster than Naples. This mess had to be cleaned up immediately; Elijah could never know any of this had happened…

She was distracted by the vein in Rooney's neck. It pulsed louder and louder and his anger and fear were intoxicating.

Leah could feel all that was human in her starting to fall away as pure animal instinct demanded that she destroy the threat in front of her. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled at the bartender's words; out of pure spite Leah wanted to leap across the counter and rip his spine out through his nose.

She knew the veins had returned to her face by the look of horror reflected on his.

She had to go, she had to leave now, _come on, Leah_ _move._

Reason, however, was defeated by hunger. She launched herself onto the counter, knocking the rifle from Rooney's grip just as he pulled on the trigger. The bullet shattered the glasses hanging above the bar and initiated a fresh chorus of screams from the patrons.

She drank from the bartender in wild delirium but pulled away just short of stopping his heart. By the time she had healed and compelled him, customers were fleeing through the front door again. The bar had nearly emptied but the football guy remained unconscious on the floor. His friends, to their credit, had refused to leave without him.

"We just want our friend," they tried to negotiate, hands in the air as if she was now pointing the gun.

Leah tried to speak but her head had gone blank; the smell of blood was overwhelming and she realized it was coming from her. Touching her upper arm, her fingers came away red where the bullet had grazed before embedding itself in the ceiling.

No matter how well she had been doing before, the sight and smell of her own blood sent Leah over the edge.

Jumping down from the counter she shoved one of the boys into the wall by the front door. He struggled under her grip and menus fell around them as she slammed him against the paneling, stretching her body along his as she drank deeply and greedily from his jugular. Her long, satisfying moans grew loud as the sound of his heartbeat grew fainter by the second…

Leah only pulled back when she realized he wasn't responding: no pleasure, no pain, his head rolled to the side without her support. He was out cold and his pulse had all but vanished.

Images flashed across her mind: the walls of a kitchen, a piazza in Italy, a bedroom in a lodge - everything covered in blood…

_No_, she scolded herself, _not again. Not. Again. _

Turning around, she was not alone. The remaining boys had not moved, paralyzed by the decision to either help their friend or run for their lives. She wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand, fangs finally retracting as the veins disappeared from her eyes.

"I am...so sorry."

She took a cautious step back letting the teenager she had fed on slide to the floor.

"I am so sorry," she echoed, not even aware she was saying it. Leah was under the spell of the bloodlust and even the ground under her feet felt as solid as a dream. Their voices were distant, muffled; she couldn't understand why they were yelling.

_"__Jesus, you killed him!" _

They were shouting at her, too afraid to approach their friend. "Jesus, man, _fucking hell_."

"Don't tell anyone," Leah begged them. "Don't tell Elijah."

She had forgotten her compulsion in her disorientation. She could barely hold onto her own name. She fell against the doorframe, nearly tripping over the body as she began a desperate retreat.

"Just, take your friend. I don't want to hurt you…_but I do_…but I – I have to go."

She fled. She was so scared. She was awake in a nightmare she wasn't meant to remember.

Leah had never been lucid during this part, only the part where Elijah found her hours later, confused and covered in blood. She fumbled for her keys, her hands slick and shaky. They dropped on the pavement twice before she was able to jam them into the door lock.

She threw herself behind the wheel and screamed in frustration, glancing into the side mirror to check if she looked as crazy as she felt.

She did. There was blood all over her face.

Tearing a wide strip off the hem of her shirt Leah cleaned off her mouth before shoving the bloodstained rag deep down between the seats. Without any purpose she was back on the road, blankly going through the motions. She didn't know where she was going until a sign welcomed her to Fremont.

"What? No - this is wrong. _Why is this wrong?"_

She knew she shouldn't be here, that people and police would be looking for her, an APB for a white female, red-hair, 5 foot 7, maybe 8 - possible vampire, definite _monster._

And somewhere in herself Leah knew she needed to turn around and go back to Elijah. If she could just find her way back to him everything would be okay - she needed to return before Klaus saw her like this, before Hope found out, before Mikael -

She couldn't focus; she couldn't remember. All Leah knew for certain was that she needed Elijah_._

**_Thank you for everyone's reviews and comments - I love reading them so please feel free to let me know your thoughts and opinions! Are you crossing your fingers for your favorite characters?_**


	21. A Series of Unfortunate Events Part I

Klaus snapped the man's neck without ceremony. The motel manager fell dead at his feet.

"Well, that was bloody useless. He knew nothing."

Elijah cursed, visibly distraught. No one had any information on what had happened to Leah.

He continued to pace around the lobby in a tight, tense circle, tearing his mind apart as he worked through dozens of scenarios – when had she left? How had she left? Why had she left?

He had returned to an empty motel room. Three hours later Leah was still missing.

Klaus rolled his eyes as he watched his brother in distress. He gestured at the body in aggravated anger.

"Another dead end, Elijah, another _magnificent_ waste of time. Are we done here?"

"We'll try again. Someone must have seen her leave."

"Or… we can accept the inevitable and move on."

"Leah will return," Elijah pivoted, "and we will wait until she does."

"Then we'll be waiting forever! This is bloody ridiculous!"

"This is _your_ doing, Niklaus - you have driven Leah away like you drove away our sister."

"Yes – pin this on me, Elijah, when all I did was tell her what she needed to hear."

"Neither the time nor the place - and she didn't need to hear it from you."

"Oh, so would you have preferred I'd been more_ delicate_ in my delivery then?"

"I would've preferred if you'd –"

"Hey –, " Hayley barked at them. "Can we hit pause and maybe do something about this body?"

Elijah spun away in frustration, leaving Klaus to deal with the inconvenient corpse.

"Is it ruining your aesthetic?" he glared at her.

"We_ talked _about not killing people in front of Hope."

Klaus' scowl softened into a frown as he noticed how his daughter was turned away, arms crossed, unable to look at the dead motel clerk. He sighed; he couldn't breathe nowadays without disappointing her.

"Just…kick him to the side a bit and I'll deal with it later."

"Klaus!"

"I said I'd deal with it_ later_, Hayley."

"She's right, Niklaus. You are only creating more problems."

"And with Leah gone we have one less so you see it all evens out in the end."

Elijah's worry for Leah overcame his rage. This was the only reason his brother was still standing.

"We wait for her," he now appealed to Hayley. "Just wait a little longer."

"Klaus is right, Elijah. We were supposed to be on the road hours ago."

He looked at her with open disappointment. Hayley tried to defend her decision.

"Look – I'm sure Leah's just upset and went for a drive to cool off but we can't wait any longer, Elijah. Rebekah's had hours ahead of us so if we're still planning on going after her we need to get a move on it."

"Indeed," Klaus added snidely. "We've only stayed this long to humor your pathetic search."

He now turned to his niece, the only other person he knew supported Leah.

"Hope, I am confident you see there is only one option."

She looked to Elijah then tried to reason on his behalf with her father.

"I'm sure Leah will be back soon. Let's just wait a little longer, dad."

"Absolutely not – and this is not up for a family vote. We're leaving without her. _Now."_

"One more hour, Niklaus."

"Do not try to negotiate with me, brother."

"This is not a negotiation. This is a _fact_ – I am not leaving. Take Hope and Hayley but I am staying."

"You'll do no such thing, Elijah. You are coming with us, one way or another."

"Niklaus - do not make me choose between Rebekah and Leah."

"Then allow me to make the decision for you…"

Even as Hope realized what her father was about to do she moved too late. She only saw the flash of silver as he lunged forward, plunging his hand into her uncle's jacket and withdrawing the weapon in a single, smooth move.

By the time she jumped forward to pull her father away the dagger was pressed against Elijah's heart.

_"__Dad, you won't. You won't do this!"_

_"__He would choose Leah over his own sister – over you!"_

_"__That's not the choice he's making – don't do this! Please!"_

Hope wrapped her hands around his wrist, trying to pull his hand away from Elijah. Her efforts, however, were like those of a child; Klaus shook her off easily, pushing her aside as he continued to level the dagger at his brother.

"I don't want to do this," he growled, "but you've left me no choice. _Let Leah go_."

_"__I will not leave her. I will never leave her."_

Elijah just stood there in silent fury. Klaus' eyes now glowed with rage.

Hayley immediately grabbed Hope and pulled her back. She wasn't about to let her daughter throw herself in the middle of this fight. Elijah's emotions had ruined his reason; Klaus' paranoia had turned violent. Neither of them was safe to be around; neither of them was in their right mind.

In fact Elijah had made no move to evade the dagger at all. On the contrary he bore down on his brother.

_"__Do it, Niklaus,"_ his voice rolled like thunder. "Use the dagger but understand that when you remove it I shall _hunt _you like Mikael if harms comes to Leah."

Klaus didn't blink. His hand remained steady around the dagger.

"Don't do it, dad, you promised me!"

"Do it, Niklaus, because I will not leave her otherwise."

The growl started low in the back of his throat before exploding into a frustrated snarl. Reluctantly, Klaus lowered his hand and backed away.

Hope sighed in relief. Elijah didn't move a muscle. He continued to glare as his brother waved the dagger in his face.

"You have one hour," Klaus granted, "but I'll keep this until you remember to keep the promises you made to this family."


	22. A Series of Unfortunate Events Part II

Hope had been raised on fairy tales and happy endings. They had taught her to be optimistic, to believe in the good in people, to understand that a villain is just a hero without hope.

They taught her how to live among the Mikaelsons. They taught her how to forgive her family.

But in the span of ten days she was unlearning everything. Every moral she had memorized was now being challenged: right did not make might, patience was definitely not a virtue, and love didn't seem to conquer anything at all.

Since they had left New Orleans her whole world had been shaken and resettled upside down. In fact, as she reluctantly helped her mother pack up her room, Hope had never felt more like a pauper than the princess. They didn't have much to take with them: a handful of necessities, a pile of clothes; they might not be sleeping in cars but her family was undeniably living on the run - and now they were running again.

It felt like each time they did she lost more and more in the move: her phone destroyed in the crash, the college sweatshirt left behind, all those letters to Aidan she had wanted to mail…up in flames.

Those were just _things_ though. They would never be as important as the people she had lost – Philippe and Rebekah.

Leah. The hour was almost up.

"How's it going?" Hayley called from the bathroom, shoving toiletries into a plastic bag.

"Almost done with the clothes," Hope hollered back, though to be honest she had folded the same shirt three times in a row.

She was distracted; her father's fight with Elijah in the lobby kept looping through her head. Hope was afraid she'd only delayed the execution and in her mind she could see how this would play out: the sand would run through the hourglass, Leah would not have returned through the gates. Her father would close them on her forever, and when Elijah protested Klaus would strike.

Instead of a sword he would yield a dagger. It was not the weapon of a hero.

Her family had always been her royal guard, her protective palace; the safest place was at their side...

What a childish delusion. Leah had understood. Leah had realized. She had seen the signs of civil war and fled. It hurt that she had but Hope could no longer blame her. The first blood spilled in war is always of the innocent.

Mikael was out there but he wasn't the threat. Her family would tear itself apart before he even found them.

No, the monster wasn't outside the walls - it sat inside, on the throne, with a crown of gold on his head.

_Her own father. _

Klaus Mikaelson had become a tyrant.

Hope threw the shirt she had been folding on the bed and with a frustrated cry sweep the entire pile to the floor.

"Hey," Hayley rushed over, "what happened here?"

"They… just fell," she lied, beginning to pick the shirts up one by one.

"Okay, well here." Her mother dropped a small duffle on the bed. "Hurry up, your father will be back soon."

"I'm so mad at him."

"Yeah, well, join the club."

"I want you to take that dagger away from him."

"Given that it's the only thing keeping your uncle from going rouge... I'm thinking let him hold onto it a bit longer."

"He's an ass," Hope scowled. Hayley raised a brow.

"He's your father – and he's keeping you safe."

"How could he say all those _horrible_ things to Leah?"

"She probably needed to hear them. Look - whatever's going on with Leah is between her and Elijah. Your father's just doing damage control."

"If Leah doesn't come back before we leave what are we going to do? Can we write her a note so she can find us?"

"Great idea – we can just leave it with the dead guy at the front desk. Now focus and finish up with those clothes."

Hope picked up the bag and just shoved the shirts in messily. She took off around the bed.

"Where are you going?" Hayley started.

"To Leah's room. I need to pack her stuff."

Hayley was about to call Hope back when she realized she couldn't admit to her daughter that there was likely no point.

"Come right back," she simply said.

Slipping through the adjoining door, Hope headed for the closet in the back of the room. She wasn't sure which of the dresses and shirts hanging inside were Rebekah's or Leah's so she pulled them all from their hangers, draping them over her arm.

She heard the lock _clink_ behind her as someone set a keycard in the reader. The door opened.

"Leah!" she spun around. "You came back!"

It was definitely not Leah.

"It's a pity you look so much like your worthless father."

The blouses dropped from her hands and she stumbled backwards over them.

"Hello, again, Hope, is it? Forgive me. I keep forgetting to bring you a gift, for your birthday. Not a very good grandfather - but you didn't need me to tell you that."

He slipped his hand into his breast pocket.

"I did, however, bring this."

He presented the silver gift with a flourish. It was her father's dagger.

_"No,"_ Hope inhaled, terror filling her lungs. "What did you do? How did you get that?"

"Or this – you might ask?"

He threw the key card on the bed. Hope froze, too afraid to consider - was that Elijah's key? Was that Leah's?

"Let's just say I have friends in low places," said Mikael.

"And I'm sure Hell misses you," came Hayley in response. "So let's send you back."

Hope nearly cried in relief when she saw her mom and dad in the doorway. Klaus was in a bad way; Mikael had clearly found him first. The evidence of their previous struggle glistened fresh across his face and chest; blood seeped through torn clothing and there was a gruesome gash across his brow. Pure fury lit up his face; the White Oak stake was clenched in his fist.

Hayley stood at his side, the long wooden handle of a mop in her hand. She yielded it like a spear, her eyes glowing amber.

Hope let herself breath; her parents were here to save her.

Just as Mikael had expected. Turning them both around, he grabbed Hope by the wrist with a bruising grip and violently yanked her to him. The tip of the dagger now pressed into the soft flesh of her throat.

Hayley and Klaus wavered in the doorway in absolute anguish.

"You really shouldn't leave children unattended," Mikael mocked them mercilessly. "Do not fret, Niklaus. This one reminds me of my sweet Rebekah – I think I'll kill her last."

Klaus would dare to wait no longer; he gave the sign to put the plan into action.

At his nod, Hope unleashed her magic. Flames erupted up the side of Mikael's black jacket. They lit up the dark room as they lapped up his torso and devoured his arms. Hayley followed through next; she launched the mop handle through the air. It fixed itself perfectly in place, pinning Mikael's hand to the back wall.

With a snarl of pain he dropped Hope and she fell to the ground at his feet.

"_Move_," Hayley shouted, waving her daughter toward the door.

Hope hesitated for a second, glancing at the dagger that had fallen to the floor several feet away. Although it was tempting to grab it while Mikael was distracted, she knew she shouldn't. She knew she had to follow the plan exactly.

The plan – most families had them: where to meet up if the house caught fire, who to call if there was an emergency, who would take in the children if something ever happened to their parents. The Mikaelsons were like most families in the sense that they too had a plan of action in case the violent and homicidal grandfather showed up unannounced.

Yet the thing about plans – they never go as planned.

Mikael had recognized the set up; when he flashed across the threshold he was ready for the brothers' ambush.

He grabbed Klaus' arm, blocking his attack and wrenched the stake from his grasp. In return, he drove the curved bone of the Tunde blade deep into the hybrid's chest.

In the second it took Elijah to react to it all Mikael had turned and brought the stake down upon him.

Hayley had been dragging her daughter down the hall. With the keys in hand she was prepared to get her far away from the fight. Yet Hope now dug in her heels, forcing her mother to turn around and _look_.

"Mom, _stop!"_

Elijah was buckling beneath the driving force of Mikael's arm. The stake was inches from his heart...

"Mom, we have to help!"

"No,_ no - _I am getting you out of here."

_"No, Mom, I said STOP!" _

With a silent spell Hope burned Hayley's hand. Free of her mother's supernatural grip, she raced back down the hallway and back into the fray.

Not a moment too soon.

Elijah would have been the one in flames if Hope had not intervened with magic. The air was now full of smoke and the smell of charring flesh as the White Oak stake fell from Mikael's blackening hand.

It continued to roll down the hall and came to rest at the edge of the balcony.

Before Hayley could stop her, Hope rushed toward it. Squirreling her way along the railing, she reached for the silvery spike and pulled it away from Mikael.

But now that Hope had the White Oak stake clutched in her hand she didn't know what to do with it. This had never been part of the plan; this had never been discussed at any family meeting.

She was frozen by her uncertainty; everyone was shouting at her. Her mother cried her name; her father groaned from the ground.

She made eye contact with Elijah, ready to pass it to him -

\- but between the intention and the execution Mikael recovered. He grabbed Hope's arm with such force the bone snapped.

She screamed. Klaus pulled the Tunde blade from his own chest and attacked.

Mikael was drawn back into the fight. He dropped Hope in a heap, his quest for the stake momentarily abandoned.

Elijah sped to her side and tried to pry it from her. He could not get it away; Hope's fingers were an iron cage around the stake. She held it in a death grip, her entire arm locked up in pain.

Klaus was thrown into the wall. Mikael turned back to the stake - to Hope.

Elijah raised himself over her protectively. Hayley launched herself at Mikael from behind.

They were both knocked to the ground as Mikael grabbed her arms, spun her around, and threw Hayley into Elijah.

Hope screamed as she saw her family fall before her eyes. Blinking back tears she willed herself to her feet, pulling herself up with the balcony railing. She leaned against it in pain, clutching her broken arm to her chest.

The White Oak stake was still in her hand. She knew she had strength enough to use it.

But in the second Hope hesitated Mikael came after her. Klaus drove the knife into his back just as he lunged forward.

He violently slammed into Hope. She was shoved into the railing.

It gave way beneath her.

She fell.

**End of Part 3**


	23. A House Divided

**Part 4**

It was a sad vigil they now sat for their daughter.

Klaus and Hayley supported her body between them. There had been no bed to lay her on, no white dress to wrap her in, no chance to wash the blood from her body.

There had simply been no time to mourn.

The car was as solemnly dark as the occasion and with each silent second it took them further from the motel. The moonlight which flooded the back seat fell upon her like a shroud of white. It illuminated the ghastly paleness of her skin, and though her parents knew she wasn't sleeping, at least they could say she looked at peace.

Here lies Hope Mikaelson - twenty-seven years old.

Dead.

They had carried her into the car and laid her across their laps. Klaus held her legs; Hayley stroked her hair; in anxious quiet they now waited for her to return to life, for their miracle child to perform just one more miracle.

Time continued to go on without her. It had been an agonizing hour just waiting.

That was all her parents could do.

Klaus had never been a patient man but death was something he could not intimidate. Covetous and cruel, it was keeping his daughter from him; her resurrection was taking too long. Like a miser he tried hoarding the passing minutes as if he might prevent them from collecting at the bottom of an hourglass. If all the sand fell through he would know they had been wrong.

He would know that she was really gone, that Hope was not coming back.

His daughter would be dead – always and forever.

Hayley fussed with Hope as if she already was - arranging her hair, straightening her clothes, alternating between crossing her hands and holding them tightly in her own. All the while silent tears bathed both mother and daughter.

Klaus turned away toward the dark window, unable to watch Hayley's ceremony. Her mourning was so public that he felt himself carry her grief with his own; perhaps it was a wolf thing. He didn't believe in the idea of mates or such nonsense that comprised werewolf lore but he hadn't failed to recognize the bond he shared with Hayley through their daughter.

Now as they held Hope between them, Klaus felt that connection crushing him. Hayley's grief was becoming unbearable. The wolf inside of him emerged to help him bear the weight.

The animal was the primal part of Klaus, the part of him that not only embraced emotion but reveled in it, let it overwhelm him, let it consume him. It fought for its pack and it fought for its family. It had now reared its head in answer to Hayley's cries.

It compelled Klaus to avenge their daughter. It thirsted for someone to punish and hunted for someone to blame: blood must pay for blood for what had happened.

\

_Klaus took to the stairs in his mad dash to reach the parking lot. He had to push people out of the way; despite the late hour the spectacle had garnered an audience._

_Guests were emerging from their rooms. They peered over the balcony, stood on the stairs, began to circle the scene. Some of them were on phones taking pictures; one woman was loudly screaming, another calling for help._

_Klaus ignored them all as he approached Hayley._

_She was cradling a fragile figure to her chest but he refused to even recognize it as their daughter. She was a broken doll in her mother's arms, an innocent beauty that some angry god had bashed upon the pavement. The blue lights of her eyes had dimmed to grey and the gold of her hair was now streaked with red. The blood was everywhere; Hayley kneeled in a pool of it, insensitive to everything but her anguish for Hope._

_\_

Even now Klaus recalled the sound of Hayley's keening. It made the wolf bare its teeth.

_Mikael,_ it growled, blame him above all. Klaus listened and agreed; the very name burned into his heart and kindled a dark anger. Had they not been taken by surprise, had they not been so vulnerable, had they not fled - Mikael would be ash for laying a hand on Hope. Klaus felt the weight of the White Oak in his jacket; it mocked him with its presence.

For instead they had left Mikael with the bone blade buried in his back and Klaus had missed his chance for vengeance. Thus the wolf now demanded someone else to appease its rage.

Its eyes fell upon his brother.

In the passenger's seat Elijah was still as a statue. A steady hand upon the dashboard, he was focused on some dark point on the endless road before them.

Klaus saw the stony set of his eyes in the mirror. Thoughts were clearly spinning in his brother's mind; he could almost see the long threads of them tangling into knots. The confusion, the frustration – the helplessness – was it also guilt Klaus saw there too? Pain was tied with anger; anger was ensnared by regret… had Elijah realized Hope was the price for his hour's delay?

_Blame Elijah,_ the wolf urged him. _This is his fault. _

For a moment Klaus' eyes glowed amber and his fingers itched for the lost silver dagger.

But the moment passed and he unclenched his fists. Despite what the wolf demanded Klaus would not cast his brother at its feet. Elijah was not to blame – not wholly at least. No more than Rebekah for leaving in the first place; they would not have even been at that bloody motel if she had given up the location of the safe house. They would have already been in California had she not run off.

Their actions had been ill advised but innocent. His siblings were fools but not guilty.

Klaus told the wolf Elijah was pardoned, not to be touched; his intentions, though grossly misdirected, had never been malicious. If his brother needed to be punished it was to correct him, not condemn him.

He could not deny that for Hope his brother would do anything. He adored her, loved her; if he had any responsibility in the matter of her death he would be his own judge and jury. Klaus didn't need to do anything; Elijah would damn himself to bear the chains of his guilt for all eternity.

The wolf howled in fury to be denied again. It now turned Klaus' attention toward a much easier prey - the girl behind the wheel with the hair like fire and a temperament just as destructive. It whispered in his thoughts, a simple enough suggestion:

_You don't need a dagger to punish your brother._

Klaus didn't need to be reminded of what he already knew: to send Elijah a message he simply had to use the girl he loved as the messenger.

Leah was driving. The details of how this had come about had been the least important thing at the time of their occurrence. All Klaus knew was that they had her to thank for the getaway car. And 'thank' was an extremely generous word – had she not stolen the car and disappeared, Elijah wouldn't have insisted they wait for her return, they would have left the motel hours ago, and Mikael would have never gotten close enough to Hope.

_All of this is Leah's fault._

The wolf had been telling Klaus this for days. The hybrid had listened but refused to act. It infuriated the beast inside; for the protection of the pack the alpha must kill the dangerous outsider.

It told him it was his duty to honor his bloodline – to avenge Hope through Leah.

It told him it was his duty to protect his family - to save his brother from Leah.

It told him – it demanded of him – to kill Leah.

Klaus still refused. Grief and anger had not so blinded him that he'd abandoned reason altogether, that he was ready to give into the wolf. He was not looking to start a war with Elijah, especially not now that they were all so vulnerable. His brother had warned of the plague he would rain down upon them should harm come to his girl; avenging Hope wasn't worth a vengeful Elijah.

He tore his eyes away from the front. They fell back on his daughter and he rested a hand on her leg. It calmed his thoughts to feel her presence although she only grew colder under his touch.

But the wolf was born from fear and pain and it only grew stronger within Klaus.

_Save your brother,_ it continued. _Look how she has changed him! He used to be__ clear minded, remember? His allegiance unshakeable, his loyalty steadfast, his affections safely placed in you and Rebekah, in Hayley, in Hope._

_She has made him weak. Love has made him weak. Cull the fold to save the herd._

Klaus closed his eyes and tried not to listen…but the longer Hayley sobbed beside him the more he was persuaded. As the second hour came and went and Hope remained silent to her mother's pleas Klaus began to agree with the wolf: his daughter was gone and Leah would be the first to pay the blood price for her death.

Only one came to her defense – the boy.

His voice was small but it carried much weight. He was bright-eyed and blond and always argued on the side of Elijah. In everything he did he tried to honor his big brother, his best friend since the times when they were young, when they were human.

And even though he was afraid, for his brother he would fight the wolf.

The boy told Klaus that no one was to blame for what had happened to Hope, that sometimes things happen and sometimes they happen for a reason.

Klaus thought this was the most inane thing he had ever heard. He wondered why he was even listening to a child.

_Then listen to this at least,_ the boy conceded. _You are not alone and you don't have to do this alone – you have Hayley, and Elijah, and yes, even Leah. Does she not blame herself for arriving too late? Is her grief so different than Elijah's, than yours?_

_The wolf then snarled his objections, throwing Klaus' thoughts into conflict. _

_What is her grief compared to that of a parent?_

_It is not a competition_.

_She is a threat to your pack._

_She is precious to your daughter. _

_This is her fault._

_This is no one's fault._

_This is my fault, Klaus _confessed, wanting the torture to end. _Is that what you wanted to hear?_ _The whole lot of it falls upon me – from Philippe to Rebekah to my own daughter's death – I confess all the guilt to be mine. Now are you bloody satisfied or do you take morose delight in tormenting a father over the corpse of his child?_

Oh, now they were silent. Typical. The only thing more treacherous than the voices in your ear are those in your head – especially when every one in there is simply Niklaus Mikaelson.

Well, not all of them. There had always been one oracle of truth in the wilderness of his mind.

_I have a story for you, Daddy! Can I read it to you now? Once upon a time there was a handsome king and he was granted three wishes. He had always wanted subjects and to be feared and so he wished for a kingdom - but his kingdom didn't make him happy. So he decided he then wanted a family and to be loved instead. So he used his second wish to wish for a daughter and his daughter made him happier than every kingdom in the world._

_Why did you stop? Is that it? Is that how it ends?_

_I don't know, Daddy! The rest of the pages are blank!_

_But the story can't be over. What's the king's final wish?_

_How do I know, silly? You haven't made it yet! _

Klaus now held his daughter's hand as he did. He kissed her knuckles softly and sat back to see if it came true.

He didn't have to wait long.


	24. All the King's Horses Part I

Hope returned to this world just as suddenly as she had left it.

With the same violent force of her fall she was now swept up to the shores of life. She bolted upright, her hair a hurricane around her face as she pitched forward and gasped.

As she took her first breath for the second time Hope knew the darkness hadn't been a dream. She felt the panicked rhythm of her heart inside her chest and realized it beat only for show. Her lungs burned, her throat itched; even in the gloomy car everything was too bright.

She was in transition.

Long ago it had been decreed that immortality would be the final gift for the thrice-cursed child; part witch, part werewolf, part vampire - this was now her rite of passage.

But this was not a journey she had to take alone.

Reaching out, Hope frantically searched for a familiar connection. She grasped her father's hand, crushing his fingers in a bruising grip. He held on just as desperately.

"I've got you, sweetheart. I've got you."

Hope trembled as her fresh-beating heart forced hot blood through cold flesh. Soon the icy pallor of her skin began to warm and Klaus sighed in relief to see the color return to his daughter's face.

He swept the hair from her eyes as she continued to shake.

"You have to breathe. Hope, _breathe_. Hayley, help me move her."

Together they maneuvered her into the space between them. Hope was still heaving hard and Hayley began to rub calm circles in her back, trying to calm her. From over her daughter's shoulder she shared a look with Klaus, an uneasy doubt that the worst was really over.

"Let's get Hope some air," she called up to the front of the car.

In response Leah brought them into the shoulder lane, leaving the car idling as she motioned to Elijah to lower his window as well.

"What else can we do for her?" she asked him.

"I think for now you've done enough."

There was no time to consider his tone. Leah was distracted as Hope began to sputter violently.

"W-what's happening?" she sobbed. "Where am I?"

The world she had returned to would not seem to settle. It swam before her eyes, fading in and out of focus. Every other sense was tricking her as well; even her own skin no longer felt like her own. But the worst was the way her mouth tasted like copper. She swallowed hard, wincing, her throat parched raw with thirst.

With horror Hope realized it wasn't water her body craved.

"Mom…"

"Hey, I'm here. You're okay."

Hayley pulled the curtain of curls from her daughter's face. They had lost their golden shine and bouncy softness. Instead, they clung together stiffly, matted in dried blood.

The rusty scent was causing Hope's gums to ache. She threw her hands over her mouth with the terrible realization that it was her new fangs now itching to descend. Shaking her head, Hope heaved a mournful sob as she started to understand what her resurrection had cost her.

Her magic. Her humanity. Her dreams for the future.

She always knew she was a hybrid; she never wanted to be a vampire.

Klaus knew what she was thinking and pulled her into his arms.

"You are still our daughter," he held her close, "and your family will always love you."

"I should have stuck to the plan but I didn't. I'm sorry - I was just so scared for everyone."

"No, no, sweetheart. Love, you did nothing wrong. Nothing."

But a childish shame now possessed her, a embarrassing regret that she had been so stupid, that she had gone and gotten herself killed trying to play hero when Mikael had attacked. Though they tried to hide it on all their faces, Hope clearly saw the damage she had done to her family.

Anguish and guilt tainted her parents' expressions, darkening the colors of their joy at her return. Elijah nodded at her impassively, stoically struggling to be strong for her sake. Hope couldn't even tell what Leah was feeling; her best friend wouldn't even meet her eyes.

She had never meant to hurt them - she had only wanted to help. Her shame shifted into pity and then grew into anger and soon Hope felt a storm rise within her, tremulous waves that crashed along the entire spectrum of emotion.

She found herself helplessly swept along. She cried out for help.

"Leah..."

So far she had been quiet, afraid to intrude on such an intimate family reunion. But Leah now leaned forward at the sound of her name and the blue of the sky met the blue of the ocean as she looked into her best friend's eyes.

"Hey," she smiled weakly. "Welcome back."

Hope burst into tears.

Hayley immediately swooped in to console her and Leah slumped back into her seat with a sigh.

Elijah tried to assure her it was nothing she had said.

"There is a certain amount of volatility which accompanies the transition."

"You don't think I remember? The first week is the worst."

"First _week_?" Hope sobbed. "I can't do this for that long! Mom, I can't!"

"Yes, you can. One day at a time. Just start by telling us what you need now."

Hope knew what she needed – she could smell it in the air. Everything around her was soaked in the scent of blood. She smelled it on her hair; she smelled it on her mother. She even sensed the traces of it staining Leah's shirt.

She screwed her eyes shut and tried to block it all out.

"Stop," she told herself, "stop thinking about it…"

"About what?" Klaus begged her. "Tell me what's wrong, love."

"I don't want to," she kept saying. "I never wanted to..."

"Hope," he now demanded. "You have to tell me what's wrong."

"Stop asking me!" she snapped, pushing him away. "Stop yelling at me!"

"Hope, calm down. It's just your hearing - it's grown keen."

"But it's overwhelming - I can hear my heart in my ears. It's so loud... it won't stop..."

"You're still adjusting to the change."

"Make it stop," she grew angry. "Do something!'

Klaus fell back, looking to Hayley to take over since his own sense of helplessness was starting to frustrate him.

"It's not forever," was all she could promise, "and I swear it will be better once you complete the transition."

"And how exactly do you suggest we go about that?" Klaus cut in.

"I don't know," she shot back. "We'll figure it out as we go. There aren't exactly manuals on how to raise a tribrid child."

"I'm not a child!" Hope's shouted, pulling her hand from her father's grasp. "Stop coddling me, both of you _– I'm fine_."

"Judging by the violent mood swings I beg to differ."

"Klaus…" Hayley warned him. "If you don't know what to do, stop trying to help."

Hope sulked in the middle as her parents glared at each other over her. Leah now felt completely awkward and at last Elijah found himself growing uncomfortable as well.

He cleared his throat loudly.

"Perhaps a change of location would be most appropriate."

"Yes, please," Leah seconded, turning the key enthusiastically. "I'll find us somewhere to stop up ahead."

"That will not be necessary," Klaus refused her unkindly. "The plan is still to go to California. Until then we press on without pause."

"Be reasonable," his brother insisted. "A few hours rest will do everyone well."

"I'm with Elijah," Hayley agreed. "Hope is not spending her first day in the back of some car."

"And we've been driving forever," Leah added. "I don't think I can do another hour at the wheel."

"Then bloody switch with Elijah," Klaus barked, "but we will not stop and that is final."

"Niklaus, you are being insensible. We need to feed, we need to rest – your master plan can wait a day."

"Can it?" he glared at his brother, "Or must I remind you that waiting is what got us into this mess in the first place?"

Elijah was struck hard by the unsubtle accusation. He fell back into his seat, instantly defeated. Leah stared at him curiously, not understanding why Klaus' words had made Elijah suddenly so tense.

"We need to put as much distance between us and Mikael as soon as possible," Klaus continued.

"What we need to do is consider what _Hope_ needs," Hayley countered.

"Hayley, do not fight me on this. I have made my decision."

"Hope is _our _daughter, Klaus, so we will make any decision that affects her _together_."

"Well, then we can decide _together_ that we're _not stopping_."

"Yes, we are. I'm overruling you and your dictator ego. Leah, get us on the road and find us somewhere to stop."


	25. All the King's Horses Part II

"We're here."

Leah parked them on the far side of the lot between the sleeping tractor-trailers. These were the final hours of a very long night and the rest stop was starting to fill with truckers and travelers seeking their morning coffee.

Hayley helped Hope out of the car.

"I'm going to get her cleaned up. We'll be in and out."

"Do not let her out of your sight," Klaus climbed out after, "and come back immediately. If we are being followed we can't linger."

"Then find us a new car and let's ditch this one. Too many people saw us leave in it."

Leah's ears began to burn as Hayley recalled the chaos of their flight from the motel. It was only because she had returned to it that they had been able to leave it at all. When Elijah had demanded she drive it had simply been easier to act than to feel. The only way she could help Hope was to speed her away from that horrible location.

"Do you think they need a hand?"

Leah turned to Elijah but he gave her no response; he stared out his window, silently observing Hayley and Hope disappear across the lot. For a second he wavered in hesitation, then she saw his hand slide down toward the handle on the door.

"Go help your brother. I can help Hayley with Hope."

"I think it best you remain here, Leah. You've helped enough tonight."

She bit her lip, holding back her frustration. That was the second time he'd said that and she still didn't know what it meant. His words made her feel like a simple chauffeur, like she was driving the hearse but forbidden from the service. This whole time in the car she had felt Klaus' eyes on her, scrutinizing, judging, deeming her unworthy to grieve for his daughter. This memorial was invitation only.

But she had been there - no one else, only her - when Hope had hit the pavement; the others had been up on the balcony but Leah had been down on the ground. Hayley had needed to force her aside in order to take Hope into her arms.

So Leah had watched from afar as the Mikaelsons mourned and on the sidelines she still remained.

And it hurt most of all that Elijah grew aloof; for the last two hours they had sat besides each other like strangers at the funeral of a mutual acquaintance. Even now he showed no intention of acknowledging what she had witnessed, or how it made her feel, or what any of this meant for their future.

He suddenly shifted in his seat and Leah unfurled her fingers, expecting him to take her hand tightly and tell her it was going to be okay. If he had wrapped his arms around her now she would have finally let herself cry.

Instead he pushed open his door and swiftly climbed out of the car. Without a word he had left her alone.

Leah felt the prick of hot tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Squeezing them shut she demanded they stop. She was disgusted with herself for even starting to cry. Curling her hand back into a fist, she threw open the driver's side door.

She had barely touched the pavement when Klaus was angrily in her face.

_"Where the bloody hell were you?"_

Instantly Elijah was in front of him, placing himself before Leah protectively.

"Niklaus, leave her be."

"Questions, brother - too many remain unanswered. This is the second time Mikael has made fools of us – hear me, Elijah, when I say there will be no third time."

Klaus backed down and left them under the buzzing light, his final words ringing in the air.

Leah hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath. She lowered her hand from her chest and turned to Elijah, expecting an explanation for his brother's assault. Instead his gaze was narrowed as he stared at her.

"Where in fact were you, Leah? I would like to know as well."

"Is that really the thing we should be focusing on right now?"

He now cornered her against the car so she couldn't give him the run around.

"Leah, please," he strained to get across. "I just need to know where you were."

"It's not important, Elijah."

"Tell me and I will be the judge of that."

Leah frowned, shifting her stance and crossing her arms defensively.

"Why do you care so much where I was?"

"Because my brother does. Clearly."

"Your brother? Elijah, your brother is crazy. I've actually seen the folder where he keeps all his theories about me. Over the years he's blamed me for everything - from Davina and Antonia to Rebekah and Philippe. I'm certain he thinks I spend my weekends planning the apocalypse."

"Niklaus is simply trying to uncover how Mikael was able to track us so quickly. I assume he has his suspicions, and his theories may not always be right, Leah, but more often than not they hold merit."

"I'm sure," she muttered, but when he let the silence grow between them the realization hit her hard.

"Are you saying Klaus might be right...about me?"

"No one is more determined to protect Hope than my brother. He will consider everything in keeping her safe."

_"Elijah, you're not answering my question."_

"No," he exhaled, "I am not saying Niklaus is right... but when it comes to my brother there is no one more perceptive."

He had begun with a 'no' but then ended with a 'yes' and his unvoiced accusation infuriated her.

"Then did Klaus _perceive_ the giant fire _you_ set back in Pennsylvania? Because I'm pretty sure Mikael did - along with half the fucking state!"

"Lower your voice," he leaned in and warned her.

"Why? Afraid your brother will overhear? That he'll add you to his list of suspects?"

"It is not I who disappears constantly for hours."

He realized he'd overstepped when she threw her gaze to the ground to hide the hurt in her eyes. He sucked in a frustrated breath, pressing her closer toward the car.

"If you do not tell me where you were tonight, I cannot protect you."

"I don't need you to protect me," she shoved him back, fuming. "I've done _nothing_ wrong."

"You left me," he leveled. "We _waited_ for you, Leah."

"And what does that have to do with _anything_?"

His silence compelled her to realize it herself. She remembered what Klaus had said in the car.

_Or must I remind you, brother, that waiting is what got us into this mess in the first place?_

It finally made sense: Klaus blamed Elijah for Hope...because Elijah had waited for her.

Leah's mouth fell open. It hadn't occurred to her that Klaus would make such an open accusation in front of everyone. _Of course_ it had gone right over her head – she'd never imagined he could violently jump to the worst of conclusions.

But apparently he wasn't the only one who did.

"You think this is my fault?" she choked out in pain. "That Mikael...that Hope..."

"Leah," he said sternly, "Stop. That is not what I said."

"Then what?" her voice shook. "Tell me what you mean!"

"Every possibility must be considered."

"_Except_ the one where I led Mikael to you."

"_Twice_ you have left and _twice_ he has found us."

"It's called a fucking coincidence!"

"That Niklaus will see as a pattern."

"No," she raged loudly. "Don't blame this on your brother. _You're the one agreeing with a madman!"_

He held up a hand to silence her and Leah's icy glare immediately melted as Hope appeared around the corner, her mother a step behind.

They fell apart from each other just as Hayley walked up.

"We're heading out. Klaus got us a car."

"Come sit with me," Hope begged, extending her hand toward Leah.

"Be right there," she managed a smile. She feigned a cool composure for the sake of her best friend but the anger still seethed right under the surface and under that the hurt was tearing her apart.

As Hayley led her daughter back across the lot Leah fell in behind them, but not before Elijah grabbed her arm and spun her back around to face him.

"We're not finished here."

"Oh, yes, I think we are."

\

Elijah willed himself to stay alert at the wheel as he kept his eyes on the dark road ahead. His mind was whirling with the echoes of his conversation with Leah – he couldn't have handled that any worse. Of course she didn't lead Mikael to them; he had let his frustrations become carelessly cruel.

With every single accusation – he was no better than Niklaus.

Beside him, Klaus alone seemed indefatigable. He rolled the White Oak stake between his anxious fingers, his mind still active with a dozen different plots. Mikael, Rebekah, Elijah, Hope, _Leah_ – how was he supposed to win a game when the pieces kept moving on their own?

He turned to check on the current game in progress. In the back row, Hope had finally fallen asleep against her mother's shoulder; Leah's arm cushioned her head against the window. She barely seemed to breathed and Klaus felt an odd sense of unease to see such a usually annoyingly energetic creature now so utterly sedate.

He frowned, noticing Hope's hand entwined with Leah's. He did not wish to consider that his daughter's fate might somehow be linked to hers. Besides him and Hayley they were the only two hybrids left in the world, but despite this they remained in so many ways too human, too young, and too vulnerable.

If Mikael attacked again they might as well be children.

"This night is endless," Klaus muttered, turning now to face his brother.

Elijah's hand dropped along the wheel in agreement.

"We will have to stop soon – Hope and Leah are exhausted."

"They're asleep. Let them sleep. Keep driving."

"Then consider yourself, Niklaus. You cannot go on like this forever."

"I will as long as you shall, brother, and you seem to be doing just fine."

"The body is one thing; the mind is another."

Klaus sat back and considered Elijah's words. Sleep was of course not a physical necessity for a vampire since the body that did not weary needed no time to convalesce. But the mind tired all too easily and was prone to make mistakes when worked without rest.

And since each mistake had a higher cost Klaus could simply afford no more.

Elijah too was now considering the mistakes he had made. A part of him knew he was wrong; it wished Leah would wake in a few hours and have forgotten the entirety of their interaction back at the rest stop. The other part knew Niklaus was right – the part he was steadfastly refusing to entertain. He did not want to imagine the fallout that would inevitably occur should his deepest fears prove true.

Out of the corner of his eye Elijah saw his brother gripping the White Oak stake in his fist.

"There is something we need to discuss, Niklaus."

"And I assume you wish us to be alone before we do."

"Let me simply say there are certain matters I must first put to rest."

"Very well," Klaus conceded. "The next exit is yours. For whatever hours are left in the night we'll let the others sleep someplace proper – and you and I will talk, brother...indeed we will. But do not waste my time. I am not in a particularly charitable mood."


	26. Paraklausithyron

Hope simply wouldn't stop crying.

Even through the locked door Klaus could hear every sad, shaking sob from his daughter. No matter what he had done so far, nothing had succeeded in coaxing her out of their hotel room bathroom.

The situation was starting to frustrate him; Hope needed to stop this now. She'd gone colic like an infant with all the stubborn disrespect of a teenaged child. Despite the inevitable emotional turmoil of her transition, this nonsense was nothing more than an ill-timed tantrum.

He shared a look of concern with Hayley, but she merely shook her head. She had voiced it already but was willing to remind him again - this was his fault. Klaus hadn't the foggiest clue what she meant; all he had done was suggest to Hope that her mother take her next door to the 24-hour waffle house and teach her how a vampire eats breakfast.

Apparently Hope's answer to everything now was to instantly burst into tears.

"She's overreacting," he began to pace. "Hayley – she is too old for this."

"She's not acting out, Klaus, so treating her like a child isn't gonna help."

"_Nothing_ is helping – we've been outside this door for nearly an hour."

"I told you not to push her to feed from the vein."

"Well we can't exactly order a blood bag from room service."

"Elijah should be back soon. He's gone to find us a supply."

"Which means no one's looking after Leah. Wonderful."

"Will you drop your revenge fantasies and just focus on getting Hope out?"

"I'm not coming out!" they heard her yell through the door. "Just leave me alone!'

"Honey, unlock the door. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"Except she does," Klaus grumbled. "This is not a game, Hayley."

"Then don't try to make a joke out of it next time."

"I was _trying_ to encourage her, not send her running in the opposite direction."

"Well you're making this harder than it needs to be."

As if to prove her wrong, Klaus tried again, his voice sweet and gentle.

"Hope, sweetheart, open the door - _please._"

_"No."_

_"Open the bloody door, Hope Mikaelson!"_

_"NO!"_

"That's it," he stepped back, "I'm breaking the blasted thing down."

"Can you not?" Hayley blocked him. "She's scared enough - don't scare her anymore."

"But she _should_ be scared. Perhaps fear will motivate her to see the urgency of our situation."

"We agreed to let her rest for a few hours."

"And in a few hours Mikael will again be on our doorstep."

"That's not a fact, Klaus. We covered our tracks as much as we could. We can spare the time."

He fell back from the door, walking out into the middle of the room then whirling back toward her in a huff.

"Have it your way," he conceded. "But if this goes south, Hayley, remember it was you who wished us off the road."

"This is not just my decision - you agreed to it too."

"Because my brother requested an audience with me and you requested a bed for Hope. And all I requested is that neither of you waste my time...and yet here I am, while Elijah remains occupied and the bed in this room remains empty."

"Plans change, Klaus, you're gonna need to accept that."

"Not when it comes to the safety of my daughter."

"_Your daughter?_" she glowered, approaching him hotly. "Don't start this, Klaus, 'cause you know how it ends."

"Then work with me, Hayley, not against me on this."

"I thought I was. I _thought_ we were on the same page about Hope."

"Same page, love – two very different books. I need you to be willing to do whatever it takes to keep us moving forward. I need you to push her."

"She needs time, Klaus, I can't push her. I can't rush her transition."

"It's not that you can't it's that you refuse. You are her _mother, _Hayley – it is your job to tell her the hard truths about life. So tell her she needs to drop this stubborn saintliness immediately and learn to feed like a proper hybrid."

"So you basically want me to tell our daughter she's too good for her own good."

"It might coax her down from her moral high ground."

"That's still our Hope in there, Klaus. She doesn't need to change because _nothing_ has changed."

"Except everything."

"Why can't you two ever stop arguing?" Hope shouted from behind the door.

Klaus cringed; he'd forgotten his daughter now had supernatural hearing.

"Then listen to your mother, love, and come out."

No answer, just a loud slam and then silence. Klaus turned on Hayley angrily, ready to give up and find Elijah.

"She gets this from you, so you deal with her. Whatever you have to do, do it by the time I come back."

"Then I'm bringing in Leah."

He thought she was joking; he actually began to chuckle.

"Klaus, I'm serious. I think she can help."

"Leah?" he laughed in her face. "That shining example of self control?"

"She's gone through all of this more recently than either of us. Look - I'm the last person to want Leah as a role model for our daughter but I think she can get through to her."

"If she doesn't ruin her entirely."

"It's just until Hope comes through the worst of it. Elijah shared some things with me about Leah and it all sounded like she had a pretty sooth transition."

"I'm sure," Klaus muttered. "He sees everything about that girl through a rose-colored haze."

"We need the help. Hope needs the help."

"Then _we_ will help her, Hayley - no need for an outside tutor."

"But we're not getting through to her and we're out of options."

"And time," he added definitely, feeling caught between a rock and Hayley's hard gaze.

"Go get Leah," she ordered him. "Now."

_"Me?"_

"I don't trust you not to break down that door when I'm gone."

"Quite right," he sulked, glancing one last time toward the bathroom door. His pride had been hurt at Hayley's first suggestion that he was unable to comfort his daughter himself. Klaus knew he didn't have the most clement of tactics, but a king should never have to beg help from such a lowly creature as Leah St. Ann.

Family helped family and she was no Mikaelson.

But Klaus could still hear Hope crying and he knew he had no choice. He made for the door.

"Don't make me regret this, Hayley."


	27. Night Changes

Leah breathed in the scent of syrup in the air as she passed by the waffle house. Through its windows she saw the tables filled with a motley assortment, men and women sipping on coffee or scrolling through phones, suitcases by their seats as they waited for the first bus which left in the morning.

The Greyhound station was only a few blocks down the road.

There was an alley that ran behind the restaurant. It was chilly and gloomy at six in the morning but Leah simply needed someplace to lay low until it was time. She had debated going back to the hotel in order to say goodbye to Hope. The idea had only lasted a moment. If she ran into Elijah it would make this all the more difficult.

Here in Colorado the sky was still dark, but as Leah held the ticket in her hand she found courage in remembering back east it was already day.

So she loitered in the alley, pacing up and down, refusing to wait inside with the others; after so long on the road with the Mikaelsons she no longer felt human enough to join them. Pausing mid-turn, Leah flipped over her wrist to check the time. The watch was just another necessity she had acquired this morning through compulsion.

It was then she noticed the markings on her hand, a message hidden in the creases of her palm. The letters were hard to distinguish in the dusky light and the ink was badly smudged but as she brought her hand closer to her face Leah was able to make out the words:

_Fremont. Bring keycard._

She didn't know what it meant because she didn't remember writing it. She was so focused recalling when this might have been, that he easily startled her from behind.

Leah jumped when his hand touched her shoulder.

"There you are," Elijah sighed, stepping around to see what had her occupied.

"Here I am," she wheedled, lowering her hand and the ticket out of sight. "Did you, um…did you need me for something?"

"I was looking for you to apologize – for earlier – Leah, I am sorry. My behavior was abhorrent."

"That is one way to describe it, yes."

Leah rocked back on her heels, a nervous habit. It was a primal instinct to flee; she wanted to run, she wanted to get as far away from the person who had caused her so much pain.

It hurt to even look at him. He mistook her agitation for anger.

"I know you're still quite upset at me. Leah - I deserve no better."

She took a step backward with a cavalier shrug and Elijah felt his heart pull away with her. His eyes fell away from her face in shame and landed on the paper in her hand.

He had grabbed it before she realized he'd even moved. He unfolded it once, then twice, sparing her a look before reading what it said.

_Boulder to Boston, 8am. _

Elijah stared at her in astonishment; whatever he'd expected – this certainly wasn't it.

It was a one-way ticket out of town.

Leah tried to snatch it back but he crushed it in his fist and holding it to his heart he withheld it from her reach.

"What is this?" he demanded, the aggravation palpable in his voice.

"Give it to me, Elijah. I'm leaving on that bus."

"You are most certainly not," he denied her completely, confiscating the ticket and sliding it into his jacket pocket. "Explain to me the meaning of this nonsense."

"I won't hang around and be everyone's scapegoat."

"You are no such thing, least of all to me, and there is nothing you need to fear from Niklaus. Now if you are quite done with this ridiculousness..."

She swept out of reach of his arm as he tried to wrap it around her waist to guide her back.

Stunned by her evasion, Elijah stared at Leah in open-mouthed disbelief.

"Your intention was to leave me - without a word? After all I have done to keep you safe…"

"Please don't think that I ever wanted to hurt you."

"I don't know _what_ to think," he flustered, throwing a hand to his waist and the other through his hair. "I certainly never thought you would have so little faith in me. Through _everything_, Leah - I had thought you would stay by my side."

"I would have gone with you anywhere, Elijah – once, but not after tonight."

"Tonight? Leah, what could have possibly changed so much between us?"

"_Everything._ As long as Mikael's alive you have no room in your life for me."

"Leah…"

"Just stop," she cut him off, throwing her hand in his face. "I don't want to repeat this argument again."

"Do I not deserve an explanation for your _reckless_ abandonment?"

"Think it over," she glared pointedly. "It'll come to you eventually."

"Leah, _please."_

She shook her head and kept her mouth shut. If she engaged him any further they'd be going in circles and she would inevitably give in - and definitely miss her bus.

So she turned and ran.

But just as soon as she had fled he'd materialized before her. He grabbed her hand and held it to his chest.

"Don't leave like this, Leah - stay. _Stay with me._"

She had never heard him raise his voice before. It scared her - it pained her - but it wasn't enough to change her mind.

"Give it back," she asked calmly, though her eyes screamed for Elijah to obey. They bore straight into his soul.

She wasn't simply demanding back the ticket, she was demanding back everything: everything she had given him, everything she had shared with him. Leah wanted him to give her back her life.

And maybe, if he were so kind, her heart as well.

"I hate to interrupt…"

Leah felt Elijah tense at the sound of his brother's voice; he stepped back, his hand dropping to his side. She held his eyes for a moment longer before tearing them away to address Klaus.

"Elijah's all yours," she gestured, starting to walk off. "Knock yourself out."

"Actually, I'm here for you, love. Hope needs you."

"Now?"

"Would you rather stay here with him?"

She followed his nod toward Elijah. Leah threw back her head and sighed.

"I'll be right there."

"That's the spirit," Klaus grinned. But as soon as Leah had disappeared around the corner the smile fell off his face.

"Break-ups are ugly business, brother."

Elijah ground his teeth. He last thing he needed right now was his brother's commentary. He hitched his hands to his waist and turned on him aggressively.

"Must your _constantly _lurk of the edges of my life?"

"I admit, eavesdropping is rude…but holding back a butterfly who wants to fly away – now that, dear brother, is just cruel."

_"What do you want from me, Niklaus?"_

"You – back at my side - unfettered and free to help me destroy Mikael."

"Leah is not leaving nor is she a hindrance to my allegiance to this family."

"See this for what it is, Elijah. You and Leah are over."

_"This conversation is over."_

He pushed past his brother but Klaus stepped in his way and pushed back with a growl.

"You don't need her, brother, you only need your family."

"Leah _is_ my family."

"Only a fool praises his lover beyond her worth."

"She is no dalliance, Niklaus. I have made promises to Leah that I have yet to even speak."

"All the more easier then to break. Words spoken in passion are not written in stone, Elijah. Certainly such a modern girl as Leah will understand you and her were never meant to last."

Elijah stepped in closer, rage simmering just below the surface, and though his voice lowered to a rolling thunder his words were nothing but lightning.

"I will not so easily disavow the life I have built with her. Speak to me as you will, but speak not a word against Leah if you wish that your tongue remain in your mouth."

Klaus simply laughed; had his brother actually carried out his threat he would have only found it all the more amusing. Elijah was so blinded by the illusion of love that Klaus really couldn't blame him for being such a fool.

"Then let's turn the conversation to a more important matter – my daughter."

"She is always my concern, Niklaus, I do not need to be reminded."

"Then why must I convince you so to stand at my side? I need you, brother - more than ever."

"You've never had to convince me but to prove myself - _yet again -_ I have a plan to keep Hope safe."

"And why should I listen to you?" Klaus sneered, "or trust you again with her safety? What is this ruse you throw up at me now?"

"1919. New Orleans. I distracted Mikael so you and Rebekah could continue your lives in some semblance of peace."

Klaus took a step back with an unkind chuckle.

"And let me guess - you wish to volunteer yourself as a diversion once more? Offer yourself as martyr to Mikael?"

"You need time, Niklaus, to cloak Hope, to settled her someplace safe…"

"And where is there a witch with a trustworthy bone in his body?"

"You trusted Philippe. In fact, you let him sacrifice himself for Hope - for all of us."

Klaus betrayed the slightest shiver but Elijah continued to explain his new deal.

"Find Rebekah. She will lead you to his coven and you will have your cloaking spell... but be sure to cloak our sister as well. If Mikael is tracking us through magic he must use his own blood for the locator spell."

"Then being the bastard has its rewards since Mikael cannot possibly track me if I share no blood with him. You on the other hand, brother..."

Klaus contemplated everything at once. His decision was instant.

"You will need to leave immediately, Elijah. I cannot have you near Hope if what you say is true."

"Rest assured we will be gone within the hour."

"_We?_ Oh, no, brother. Leah stays with us."

"Absolutely not - this is not up for discussion."

"You come to me, Elijah, _demanding_ I change all that I have so carefully crafted, and yet you refuse the single request I bring to the table?"

"She is not a _thing,_ Niklaus. Keep the White Oak stake, but Leah is coming with me."

"Either Leah stays with me or this plan of yours is null and void."

"What is your deceit, brother? Why are you so determined she remain with you now?"

"So I can keep her safe," Klaus growled, his voice instantly softening. "Believe it or not I am _trying _to look out for her and there is no safer place than by Hope's side. You know I am right – if Mikael discovers you have deceived him, Elijah - he will kill Leah in front of your very eyes. Her heart will be in his hands and then what will your unspoken promises mean then?"

It was a harsh consideration that Klaus knew would instantly weaken even the strongest remnants of his brother's resolve. He could almost see it crumble to dust behind Elijah's eyes.

But it wasn't enough and Klaus was forced to play his ace.

"My daughter is dead, brother, and yes she is a hybrid, and yes she has come back, but there are damages done that can never be recovered and you cannot possibly atone for them if your attention is divided."

Elijah raised his eyes to meet those of his brother, looking through his own anger and suspicion to see the genuine grief in his; below his cruel accusation was the desperation of a father in mourning.

But that wasn't enough of an excuse and the grace extended to family can only forgive so much. So it was in that moment that Elijah decided - for the promise he had broken to his brother in failing to protect Hope he would do this one final service to his king.

"Then I will agree to your terms, Niklaus, but know this - that no matter how long this takes I will come back for Leah. And when this is over, when Mikael is dead and Hope is safe – when all of us are free to go home – then that is what I will do. I will take Leah and we will leave and you will never see us again."


	28. And Then the Morning Comes

"Leah, wake up."

Hope tried again, raising her whisper to a shout.

"Wake _up_, Leah! Your watch is going off."

Still nothing. So she shoved her friend - hard.

That did the trick. Leah bolted upright from the pillow.

"Wh-_what? _I'm awake. I'm awake. What's going on?"

"You fell asleep," Hope explained, wrinkling her noise as the watch continued to chime obnoxiously.

"Shit. What time is..._shit._"

Slapping the watch until it shut up, Leah groaned. She had fallen asleep watching over Hope - unintentionally of course - and at such an awkward angle that every joint in her body had gone stiff and achy.

And on top of that she was late - it was 7:48. Her bus departed at eight.

She had slept through her alarm.

The plan had been to slip out when Hope had been asleep and maybe write her a letter to explain everything before she did. She knew she should have stopped for coffee at the waffle place - she had not expected to nod off so easily.

Now she had about twelve minutes to somehow escape right under the nose of her best friend.

An impossible task.

Leah tried not to panic with Hope sitting right there in front of her.

She apparently didn't do a very good job.

"Leah, what is it?"

"Uhh…nothing. How, uh...how you feeling?"

"The nap really helped. Thanks for talking me down from my crazies earlier."

"You're not crazy. You're just you, the coolest friend ever - hysterical crying and all."

"Thanks – that's strangely what I needed to hear."

Leah broke out into a practiced smile, her eyes reflecting the bright light now streaming in through the hotel window.

Hope nevertheless sensed some unvoiced anxiety in her friend.

"Are you hungry?"

"Uh...no, but you go ahead. They're on the table."

Leah pointed, indicating the Styrofoam cooler across the room.

"Take it slower this time though."

"Yeah, that was embarrassing," Hope blushed. "I need a baby bib or something."

"It goes down smoother when it's warm."

Leah nervously tapped her knee as she watched Hope scramble from the covers and cross the room. She now broke into a genuine grin to see how naturally her friend tore into the blood bag and took to it like a juice pouch.

"It's also easier when you have a straw."

"Figured," Hope shrugged, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth. She set down the half-finished meal on the table, noticing how much blood was on her clothes in general.

"I'm going to take a shower," she decided a bit bashfully.

"Great idea," Leah eagerly encouraged. "Just yell if you lock yourself in there again."

"Haha - very funny."

"There's that laugh I missed. I'm glad you're feeling better, Hope."

"We'll see," she backed away, letting the sadness fade out with her words.

She dragged her feet across the carpeting, stopping what seemed like every two seconds to unfold a towel or rummage for a toothbrush or open and close drawers for no apparent reason whatsoever.

Leah glanced at her watch. For the love of God...

"You realize they'll be no hot water by the time you hop in that shower, Hope."

"I have nothing to change into when I get out."

"I'm sure your mom's on it. Just hurry up so I can jump in after."

After what felt like hours Hope finally disappeared behind the bathroom door.

Leah sighed. That pathetic exchange would have to serve as a goodbye. If she had explained to Hope why she was leaving, her friend would have begged her to stay.

She just didn't have time for that right now. She had less than ten minutes to compel herself a new ticket.

When she heard Hope turn on the water Leah rolled off the bed and raced for the door.

She threw it open and slammed into Hayley.

"Whoa, whoa, where's Hope?"

"In the shower. Did you find her some new clothes?"

Hayley shoved the bag into Leah's arms, forcing her to stumble back into the room.

Leah was taken aback by the aggressive gesture. She threw the shopping bag on the bed and rounded on Hayley.

_"__What is your problem?"_

"Elijah told me what you tried to do."

"Oh course he did. Let me guess - he told you not to let me leave this room until he comes back, right?"

"I don't think he cares. You're a grown woman, do whatever you want."

Leah blinked blankly. Hayley had never been the warmest toward her but the coldness in those words left her utterly confused.

"What do you mean?'

"Here. Elijah left you this."

Hayley brought it forward, pulling the folded square from her back pocket.

"He wanted me to give it to you on his behalf."

Leah didn't need to open it to know what it was. She took it gingerly in her hand.

"He wants me to have _this_?"

"Like I said, I don't think Elijah cares if you stay here or not...though it looks like he has a preference."

Hayley maneuvered herself over to the table to grab a blood bag, leaving Hope's friend frozen in the middle of the room. She hid what she knew behind impassive indifference. She now enjoyed her breakfast satisfied she had completed Elijah's parting request - well, sort of. The bus ticket was the important thing; Leah had no use for his letter.

Leah finally lowered her eyes to the paper in her hand. She read it once, then twice, then a third time in desperation.

She had wanted to go home; she had never wanted to be sent home.

It was the ultimate dismissal.

It was goodbye and good luck and have a nice life.

It was her ticket out of their relationship...and he had given it back to her.

Leah crunched it in her hand, fighting back the tears as she looked up at Hayley.

"Where is he? Right now, where's Elijah?"

"Gone. He left while you and Hope were sleeping."

"He just left? To do what?"

"What he needs to do, Leah - and going by the time on that ticket, you better go do that too."

\

Hayley slammed the door behind Hope, all ready to head to the airport and back east.

When she turned around Klaus was just coming across the parking lot.

And he looked _furious. _

Which was no surprise at all. She crossed her arms, ready for this.

_"_Don't tell me. There's traffic."

"Where's Leah, Hayley?"

"Why is that _always_ the first question out of your mouth? What about - how's Hope?"

"Hope is fine. _Hope_ is in the car - which is where Leah should be as well - which is why I am now asking you, Hayley - _where is she?_"

"Probably wherever her ticket told her to be."

"Impossible. Elijah wouldn't have given it back to her."

"Not directly, no."

_"What did you do, Hayley?"_

Klaus pulled her away from the car so the details of their argument wouldn't be overheard by Hope.

"Do you not understand the _labor_ that was required to convince my brother to send Leah with us? And then you put that ticket in her hand and jeopardize _everything?"_

"Don't get up in my face about this, Klaus. I was just doing what Elijah asked me to."

"Oh, I'm _sure._ When will you set aside your simple-minded hatred of that girl and consider the larger plan?"

"I thought the plan was to protect Hope."

"By whatever means necessary. You remember that."

"Klaus, if she wants to go, let her go. We don't have time to babysit for Elijah."

"I _promised _my brother she would be under our protection."

"Then it's a good thing you're not the brother who's expected to keep his promises."

Klaus shot her a dark glare, urgently backtracking across the lot.

"Stay with Hope, Hayley – and stay out of my bloody plans."

\

Klaus cleared his throat, setting his hand on the back of the bench.

"May I?"

He didn't wait for her response before joining Leah on the seat. In her hands, she had nearly worn her ticket to pieces; the creases in the middle were threatening to pull apart.

"When is it due?" he asked staring out across the road in front of them.

"Half an hour ago," she looked up. "It's late."

"How fortunate."

"What the hell do you want, Klaus?"

"Such confidence in such a lost creature. Fret not, Leah - I am here to bring you back into the fold."

"You _want_ me to come back? Ha - that's a good one."

"I aim to please, which is why I am here. I have a daughter who would be simply devastated to learn her best friend left when she needed her most – and without even a goodbye. Cruel."

Guilt settled in Leah's chest and she scrambled for an excuse.

"There wasn't time. I was going to call her or something when I got home."

"And where is your home, Leah?"

"Far away from here and far away from you."

"And what is there for you now? An empty house, an empty bed?"

Even Klaus was taken aback by the intensity of her glaring blue eyes.

"I know what you're doing. You're trying to get in my head."

"Judging by the state of that ticket you've been in there already for quite some time."

Leah looked down. The tiny little fibers had finally worn through and the paper had pulled apart right down the middle. She now held half a ticket in each hand.

"How symbolic," Klaus pointed out smugly.

"They'll still take it," she grumbled.

"I'm sure they will."

"What do you want, Klaus? Are you just here to torture me?"

"I simply want you to have the whole story before you make the decision to get on that bus."

"What whole story?" she eyed him suspiciously, following Klaus with her gaze as he rose from the bench.

"It appears," he tsked, "that Hayley left out _quite_ a bit. You must forgive her, she never much liked you."

"Hadn't noticed. What didn't she tell me?"

"Well, for starters, that I told my brother I would keep you safe."

"That doesn't mean I have to come with you."

Klaus nodded as if to agree but held a finger to his mouth in consideration.

"So should you return to Boston and Mikael cut you down on your doorstep, would it delight you then to make me a liar?"

"You are a liar, Klaus. I bet you said all sorts of lies to get Elijah to leave."

"That was all him," he threw up his hands. "I cannot take any credit. He simply left to do what he had to do."

She stared down the street with a searching stare but Klaus knew she wasn't looking for the bus.

"Worry not about Elijah, love. Unlike you, my brother is quite adept at avoiding trouble all by his lonesome."

"I'm perfectly capable of the same," she said defensively.

"Is that so?"

He sat back down with an unsettling casualness, throwing his arm around the back of the bench and leaning in close.

"I asked you, Leah, earlier where you went when you left the motel. I still don't have my answer."

She froze, very still, like a fawn in the woods who's been sighted by a wolf.

She bit her lip, feeling cornered, feeling hunted.

His words were predatorial.

"Tell me, Leah - and don't make me compel you."

"You wouldn't."

"You know I most certainly would."

"Just a bar," she sputtered out. "Just down the road. I didn't even make it to Fremont."

"And what did you do in those three hours you were gone?"

"Nothing I just…wait, _what_? Three hours? I was barely gone forty-five minutes."

"On second thought, it was more like _four_ hours..."

"Um...perhaps you're going senile because I was _definitely_ not gone four hours."

"When did you leave?"

Leah thought for a moment and answered.

"Like ten."

"And when did you come back?"

"Like…"

She eyes unfocused as she searched back into her memories. They were clear in the middle but foggy at the ends.

"Okay...that's weird. I have no idea why a fifteen minute drive took nearly three hours."

Nothing she was saying was coming as a surprise to Klaus; in fact he had been prepared for her story and now relished in the confirmation of his earlier suspicions. After all, magic called to magic as blood called to blood.

"You don't remember do you?" he gently prompted her.

"I remember coming back…and Hope…"

"Is this the first time you've blacked out when feeding?"

"How did you…?"

"Do not take me as a fool, Leah. I am not my brother. I could smell the blood on you as we drove away from that motel."

"But I came _right_ back there after the bar."

"Apparently not."

Leah's disbelief got her out of her seat. She leapt up, pacing up and down the thin strip of sidewalk.

"This can't be happening. I'm losing my mind."

She was now looking into Klaus' eyes as he placed his hands on her shoulders.

"All the more reason not to wander off alone. Come back with me, Leah. Let us find our answers together."

"And why would you help me? Why should I trust you?"

"I reckon Hope has enough psychopaths in her life without adding her best friend to the list."

Leah dropped her eyes to the two halves in her hand. Perhaps it was a sign.

Klaus stepped away from her as a large shadow crossed in front of them. The travel coach idled at the curb as passengers began to lug their suitcases forward and board at the front.

"Your answers, Leah, are not on that bus, but the question is - are you going to get on it?"


	29. Jeux D'enfants Part I

Hope was not a fan of airports.

She had simply been dragged through too many of them as a child. When she lived with Rebekah in hiding, they had moved constantly - an exciting but lonely life for such a small and impressionable child. It was in an airport too that she had first met her parents. They had taken her hand and called her _Hope_ and said they were bringing her home.

And yet here she was, many years later, again with her parents in an airport... but now about to go _into_ hiding. Hope was sure the irony would be hilarious if it wasn't also so sad; like the other travelers in this terminal, she was tired, frustrated, and just wanted to go home.

Home, however, was no longer an option.

They were returning back east but not to New Orleans. Where back east? Apparently her father didn't think that was knowledge anyone needed to know. He had compelled them all through customs without even a hint of where they were headed - it was as if he wasn't exactly sure himself.

Hope was certain her mom hadn't a clue either. Her parents hadn't spoken a word to each other the entire ride over to the airport. It was clear they were in some sort of fight – which was not uncommon but still hurt when it happened. Her dad was in one of the worst moods she could remember and her mother was so angry she was down to one-word sentences.

So she was also pretty certain her parents were arguing about _her._

That bothered Hope on a fundamental level.

It bothered her too that apparently Elijah had left on some sort of mission to keep her safe. That was as much as Hayley had revealed but clearly there was more to the story. For one, Leah was acting cagey and weird.

That wasn't to say she wasn't talking - in fact, she hadn't _stopped_ talking. Hope had barely been able to get in a question with Leah going on and on about how to be a hybrid and all the perks of being a vampire.

It had all been just a little too much...which was why she had slipped off for a bit of solitude.

Hope was now somewhere between Gate 17 and 20. The women's restroom was deserted, for now at least. Airports were full of people coming and going but no one paid her any attention, which was exactly what Hope wanted. She was tired of her parents prattling on and on and now Leah was turning out to be just as annoying.

Both hands on the counter, Hope leaned over the sink, staring at the details of her face in the bathroom mirror. She searched intently for any external change that would somehow justify how she now felt inside:

Different.

"Jesus, Hope, there you are."

Leah pushed through the door, letting it swing loudly shut behind her.

"Way to ditch me back there."

"Like I could stand another second of you chatting up that barista."

Leah's expression settled somewhere between a scowl and a smirk. She joined Hope at the counter, unable to resist checking her own reflection in the mirror. It was not vanity but self-pity that drove her to do so; she glowed with a calm serenity that barely concealed the emotion she swallowed down with every breath.

She worried her face was giving away the truth she was trying to hide: she and Elijah were over, but that wasn't something that Hope needed to know right now. Her best friend had enough on her plate already.

"So are we still getting lunch?" she returned to the moment. "I'm thinking...cheese fries."

"I'm not really hungry," Hope concluded curtly. "At least not for stupid, overpriced airport food."

"You're not mad at me, are you? Did I do something?"

"You didn't have to follow me in here."

"And you didn't have to abandon me in line at Starbucks. I was going to give you a lesson in compulsion since _clearly_ you need one. I wasn't chatting up the barista, you idiot, I was compelling him."

Hope spun around and leaned against the sink, crossing her arms in a huff.

"Oh, is that what you call flirting for free drinks?"

A growl escaped Leah's throat as she angrily pushed away from the counter.

"You don't want my help, fine, but you don't have to insult me. I just wanted to know why you left."

"I was tired of you recapping the 'All about Leah' show."

"I was _confiding_ in you about my own transition so you could learn from my mistakes."

"Well, I stopped paying attention at the part where you threw a tantrum and smashed your phone - for the third time."

"That's _hilarious_ coming from you."

"Leah, _stop coddling me._ I don't need anymore parents. I already have two."

"Hey, don't bite my head off. I'm just trying to be a good friend. Why do you think I'm even here?"

"Because Elijah's not here anymore for you to bother so now you're obsessed with bothering _me._"

You would have thought Hope had slapped her; Leah flinched, froze, then fell away from her friend.

Hope reached out, immediately trying to take back her words.

"Oh, no, Leah, I didn't mean...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize. Message received. I'll see you back in the waiting room."

Her hand was on the door when Hope stopped her.

"Stay with me, Leah."

"Not if you don't need me."

"Don't be a ass - you know I do."

She gave her friend a desperate look, raw and stripped of pretense.

Leah nodded, turning away from the door, having already forgiven Hope for her outburst. After all, the first week is the worst and her best friend's transition was far from over.

And anyway, she would much rather deal with Hope's wild emotions than her own.

"There was a point to me taking you to Starbucks. The caffeine helps with the cravings…and the mood swings."

"I guess I still have a lot to learn," Hope grew sullen. Leah joined her again at the sink.

"Maybe you can start by telling me why you're so unenthusiastic about Hybrid 101."

"My teachers suck – my parents are being a nightmare."

"But your TA's really hot," Leah joked, flipping her hair with a wink.

She managed to draw out a smile from Hope. It quickly faded.

"You make it all seem so easy."

"Do I? What about eating your way through Naples sounds easy to you?"

Hope shifted uncomfortably, remembering that unfortunate conversation back at the motel.

"I'm sorry if it seemed like I was…upset…when I learned about all that, Leah. I was shocked, a bit hurt you didn't tell me sooner – sure, but I can't ever judge you for being a hybrid."

"But you don't trust me to teach you how to be one."

"I trust you - I do, but I just don't want…."

"…to turn out anything like me. Fair enough."

"That's not what I was going to say – _at all._ Klaus is my dad – I get that people..._slip_, sometimes."

"Interesting choice of words..."

"I'm _serious,_ Leah. I trust you to teach me but I just can't bring myself to be excited about any of this new hybrid stuff."

"Not the super-speed? Or the ability to compel? Or the eternal youth and beauty?"

"I don't what any of it – I just want my life back."

"Your life? You have that and more now, Hope_. _What else could you possibly…"

_Oh. _

_Oh, stupid, stupid, Leah._

_This wasn't about what Hope had gained - t__his was about what she'd lost._

_This was about baby names and wedding plans and dreams of a life with Aidan._

"Jesus Christ, Hope, I'm sorry. I wasn't even thinking."

"Leah, just drop it."

"No, come on. If this is what's holding you back you have to work through it."

"Work through it? How exactly am I supposed to _work through _not being able to do magic anymore? _To have kids?_"

Leah backed down, throwing up her hands in defeat.

"Foot in mouth, I get it. I freely admit I don't know what the hell I'm talking about."

"It's not your fault. You don't care about these things."

Hope's conclusion irked Leah and her words came out harsher than she intended.

"That's not true. That's not true at all."

"Oh yeah? You told me you hated being half-witch. You _told_ me you never wanted to get married."

"That's not...fuck, what hell do you want from me, Hope?"

"I want you to tell me that turning doesn't change anything."

"But it changes _everything._"

"See? This is why you're useless!"

They both spun away from each other in frustration but just as soon whirled around again. Leah laid into Hope hard.

"Is this about Aidan? Do you think he's gonna straight up hate you now that you're a vampire?"

"He's a werewolf."

"But not a complete idiot. I'm sure he saw this coming a million miles away."

"Is that supposed to make me feel..._better - _in any way?"

"It's supposed to slap some sense into you without me actually having to slap you. Give him some credit, Hope. Aidan's out there, probably in hiding just like us, but alive and well and just _waiting_ for you to come home."

"He's waiting for _me_ to come home, not…whatever I am now."

"Hope, how can I say this anymore clearly? Aidan will not give a fuck that you're a vampire."

"Easy for you to say. Elijah loves you no less than he did before you turned."

Leah swallowed down the bitter comment that was trying to force its way out. She grabbed Hope's hand, instantly transforming the sourness inside her into a sweet and affectionate outburst of support.

"Listen to me, Hope. Aidan loves you and will keep loving you and there is nothing you can do - or be - that's gonna change that. Do you remember that day on campus when you walked right up to some floppy-haired, polo-wearing frat boy and just _slugged_ him in the face because he was stalking you? And then you learned months later he'd really just been trying to work up the courage to ask you out? Well, that boy loves you, Hope, very, very much. If Aidan got over you breaking his nose, he'll get over this too."

"But what if I hurt him? _What if I bite him?"_

"What if he likes it? Ever considered that?"

_"Oh,"_ Hope cringed, catching Leah's meaning. "Oh, _gross._ Why do you _always_ take it there?"

"What can I say? Us Thompsons are a good breed: loyal partners, amazingly attractive - and fantastic lovers."

"Leah - _stop_," Hope begged, beaming with laughter nonetheless. "You are the worst. _The worst!_"

"You can thank me later but you're welcome now."

Their laughter was cut short as the restroom door swung open. A young woman wearing an alarming shade of pink trotted across the tiles, a make-up bag in one hand and her phone in the other.

She looked up from the screen, at last noticing she was not alone. She pointed to the sink.

"Oh, sorry…do you need the mirror?"

The two friends stepped aside so she could approach the counter. Hope started toward the door.

"Maybe we should be getting back, Leah. Still up for getting lunch?"

"Actually...yes. Do me favor -_ lock the door._"

The woman in pink instantly turned around in alarm. She looked wildly toward Hope, then to Leah.

_"What the hell are you two doing?"_

She jumped as the redhead zoomed in front of her, grabbing her tightly, one hand on each shoulder.

She was now looking right into the clearest blue eyes. They told her what to do and she obeyed.

"I need you not to run and don't fight back," Leah charmed. "Can you do that for me?"

"I won't run. I won't fight back."

"Good. Because I need you to help me teach my friend a lesson."


	30. Jeux D'enfants Part II

Hope turned the lock on the bathroom door with a cautious clink. She already felt like an accomplice in something horrible but was admittedly just as curious to see what would happen next.

"Leah, what are you doing? What am _I_ doing?"

"Nothing all the way over there," she waved Hope over. "Come on, I've got you a volunteer."

The woman in pink was shaking slightly, utterly confused and increasingly scared.

"Please let me go," she pleaded. "I don't have any money on me."

Leah started to laugh, finding it hilarious that she'd been mistaken for a common thief. Hope, on the other hand, failed the see the humor in any of this. She folded her arms, crossing the floor with a frown.

"She didn't volunteer for _anything_, Leah. You _compelled_ her."

"And now it's your turn."

"What? _No."_

"You have to learn how to do it eventually. I'm right here to help - just come over here and _try_."

Leah grabbed her friend's arm and dragged her forward so she now faced the woman directly.

"Compel her," she encouraged, gesturing with a flourish.

Hope's shoulders slumped as she realized this was actually happening. She squared herself in front of the poor lady.

"Fine. What exactly do I do?"

"Look into her eyes – make sure you _really_ have them."

"Then what?"

"Then tell her not to scream."

In a flash Leah was behind the woman, drawing back the hair, exposing the neck, plunging white fangs into tan flesh.

The screaming began immediately – loud, shrill – it echoed off the tiled walls. Hope's eyes went wide in panic.

"Leah, _stop _– someone will hear her!"

"Then _compel_ her to be quiet."

Hope grew angry as she watched her friend feed. People were not playthings; this cruel contrivance had been poorly veiled as a teachable moment. Leah could have easily walked her through the theory of compulsion without manipulating her into practicing it.

She took a deep breath and caught the woman's eye.

"Please stop screaming?"

Leah pulled her glistening mouth from the woman's neck.

"Like you mean it," she growled. "Make her want what _you_ want."

"Stop screaming _now_," Hope began to fluster. "Please. _Please stop."_

Her demand had the opposite effect. Hope cringed as her ears started to ring with all the shouting.

She desperately looked to Leah, but her best friend had left her all alone at this moral crossroads. Hope understand the need to use compulsion for necessity but Leah had turned this into some sick sport. She didn't want to be a participant in what was amounting to nothing more than torture - but if she didn't do something and soon someone was going to break down that door because the woman was still screaming bloody murder at the top of her lungs.

Hope didn't like people forcing her hand. Her anger flashed in her eyes.

_"__Shut up_," she shouted, glaring at the woman. "Shut up – _now_!"

Instant silence - it was so sudden it was shocking. Hope clasped her hands together in relief.

Leah finally pulled away, letting the woman fall back against her. She wiped the back of her mouth, ready for the next lesson.

"Now tell her not to be afraid, Hope. You can do that too. You can take away their fear."

"What are you going to do to her?" she begged. "Leah, please don't hurt her."

"I'm not going to – and neither are you. I'm gonna show you how to do it right."

_"Do what right?"_

But the answer was obvious. Already blood was seeping out of the tiny wounds on the woman's neck. Hot and crimson, it flowed down her skin like lava, slow and seductive.

Hope's fingers twitched, her gums itched. She couldn't tear her eyes away.

She was mesmerized. She watched Leah roll her thumb on the stream in reverse, wiping up the trail of blood with her thumb and wiping it across her bottom lip. It was a simple ritual that had her completely spellbound. She had always admired her best friend but in that moment Hope wanted to _be_ her: audacious, beautiful, confident...

...and dangerous, and erratic, and _feared -_ the woman's heart was beating fast and Hope desired to hear it go faster.

Her hybrid eyes began to glow - an aurora borealis of gold and amber that no one had ever before seen.

Leah was the first - and she knew it. She erupted into a broad, beguiling smile.

"Welcome to the dark side, Hope Mikaelson."

In a Faustian exchange, she pushed the woman forward, sending her into her friend's arms.

Without hesitation, Hope began to drink.

It was glorious.

The blood bags had tasted like chalk and water compared to the liquid euphoria she now inhaled. Greedily, Hope sucked it all down, all considerations of right and wrong lost into the oblivion that lies in the space between.

And she was not alone. The burden in her arms lessened suddenly as Leah joined her in feeding, the woman hanging limply between the two friends. The intimacy of the moment felt all too natural; Leah reveled in the noises escaping from Hope as a sadistic sense of pride began to sooth the ache of her broken heart.

"That's enough," she finally decided. "You have to stop now."

Hope didn't seem to hear her; she continued to pull long draughts from the woman, insensitive to the slowing sound of her heartbeat. Leah raised her voice to a bark.

"Step off, Hope. I said that's _enough."_

Reluctantly she did, letting her fangs slip out of the woman's neck with a satisfied smile. She tipped a trickle of blood back into her mouth with her thumb, a gleeful twinkle in her eye.

"Enjoying yourself?" Leah frowned, shoving her wrist into the woman's mouth. As Hope wandered back over to the sink, she compelled their lunch to get the hell out of here, go buy a scarf, and oh – forget everything that had happened.

She now turned back to the sink to wash her hands. Turning on the faucet, the water ran pink. Leah grabbed a paper towel and turned to Hope to offer it over.

Her gesture was ignored.

"Hope, are you okay?"

"This was a mistake. I can't do this."

"Oh, stop, you did great."

"Great?" Hope snapped, throwing up her hands. "Look at this mess!"

Leah shrugged – they looked clean to her. This must be what Klaus and Hayley had been dealing with all morning: Hope was letting her pretty princess sensibilities literally run her into the ground.

"Feeding gets cleaner once you get the angle into the vein just right."

"I'm _never_ doing that again. Feeding like that – it's barbaric."

"Well it certainly seemed like you were enjoying yourself. It sounded like it as well..."

Leah let her sentence trail off as she balled up the paper towel and tossed it into the bin.

"Speaking of, I hope you didn't mind that I joined you for a drink there. Didn't mean to scam on your squirrel."

"What does that even mean?"

"I don't know. I guess it just kinda hit me that feeding from the same person can be kinda..."

Leah shuffled her feet, feeling uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

"Never mind," she looked up, meeting Hope's eyes. "Just next time you should try the whole routine on your own."

"I already told you there's not going to be a next time - at least a next time that's _anything_ like what we just did."

Leah bristled, her pride unexpectedly wounded.

"What? You got a problem with my teaching style?"

"I'm a Mikaelson," Hope chimed, fluffing her curls for emphasis. "If I'm going to be a vampire I need to learn to have some class about it."

Leah's expression sunk into a scowl as she watched her friend turn away to preen in the mirror.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Then is attacking strangers in airport bathrooms considered too _déclassé_ for you?"

"It's just not the sort of reputation I want for myself," Hope responded, smiling at her reflection.

"Are you trying to say something about me?" Leah demanded.

Hope fell away from the mirror, spinning to face her.

"I'm just saying maybe if you showed a little constraint you wouldn't be at the center of Faction gossip all the time."

"You're funny," Leah nodded, though she definitely wasn't laughing. "You've become quite the comedian since you've turned."

"You don't have to mock me. I'm just telling it like it is."

"Then thank you for that reminder that I'll never be more than some low-class townie street kid and an eternal embarrassment to you and your family."

"That's not what I meant, Leah. Don't put words in my mouth."

"Well say whatever. I don't care. I've figured out as much anyways in the last few days."

"What do you mean by that?"

It came up before she could swallow it back down.

"Elijah and I are over," Leah finally confessed, letting her head fall back against the wall.

"Wait. What?" Hope gasped, her voice thick with skepticism. "You're joking right?"

"Is this my 'I'm joking' face?"

"But you can't be serious, Leah - wait, over as in..."

"You're really gonna force me to spell it out for you, aren't you?"

"No, you're right," Hope backed down, though her hand was still over her mouth in disbelief. "I'm sorry, I'm just having a hard time believing what you're telling me."

Leah frowned. She knew her friend had good intentions but it felt like she was being called a liar.

"Well believe it then let's drop it, Hope. This is not exactly a topic I have any sort of enthusiasm for."

"But I want to know what happened..."

"I thought you were tired of me recapping my life drama for you."

"Well if you don't tell me what happened I can't be sure you're not just jumping to conclusions," Hope snipped.

"Don't lecture _me_ about assuming the worst.. and I'm not assuming _anything_. There's nothing you need to know, Hope, except Elijah could have chosen to tell me where he was going this morning, he could have chosen to ask me if I wanted to come along or at least he could have said goodbye. Instead he chose to do none of those things so I'll choose whatever conclusion I want from all that."

"No way - no Sparknotes version, Leah. You need to explain this all out to me because the story you're telling me doesn't make any sense. Elijah adores you - why would he break it off?"

"I think it was pretty mutual actually."

"Wait..are you trying to tell me you two got in some fight and just totally overreacted and stormed off in opposite directions? Because that's not breaking up - that's normal everyday relationship drama."

"Don't _patronize_ me, Hope, you don't think I know that?"

"Then you should certainly also know that there is simply no way Elijah would let you go that easily."

"Are you about to give me the same speech I just gave you about Aidan?"

"I'm trying to smack some sense into you without actually having to smack you," Hope quoted.

"_Touche_...but this is so totally different, Hope, from you and Aidan, I think it's best you just stay out if it all together."

"Now who's pushing away a friend?"

"Oh, don't make this about you," Leah moved from under her gaze. "With all due respect for you as my best friend, this is the one thing that has nothing to do with you. I was the one who wanted leave all this craziness with Mikael."

"So do that," Hope called after her, "take a break, go back to Boston a grab some of your things...but then come right back to me and we will wait for Elijah to return together. And when he does you can apologize for how embarrassingly stupid you are being with all this. As if Elijah would ever, _ever_ actually do what you're accusing him of."

"I'm not accusing him of anything," she settled in front of the mirror.

"Except that he went back on his word, broke his promise to you, _left you."_

"Oh, get out of your fairytales, Hope. Elijah didn't promise he would stay with me forever."

_"Leah, are you that stupid?_ Did you know Elijah was_ this_ close to getting himself daggered in your defense? Back at that motel he and my dad got in this huge fight about you, like they always do, and like always Elijah fought for you. And you didn't know because you were gone - you weren't even there when he almost _died_ trying to keep you safe."

"What do you mean?" Leah spun around in alarm. "What are you talking about?"

"Mikael and Elijah and the White Oak stake. It almost happened. I was there."

Although she had just eaten Leah suddenly felt faint. She fell back against the counter.

"Where is it? Where's the stake now? God, please tell me Mikael doesn't have it."

"No," Hope stepped forward, taking her friend's hand. "Leah, don't worry, my dad has it. Elijah's safe. I didn't mean to upset you - I'm sorry. I was just trying to make a point."

"Which was?" Leah snapped, frustrated she had started to cry.

Hope squeezed her hand, patient and understanding. She waited for the tears to stop before leaning in.

"What you just felt right there - right now, Leah - when I told what about Mikael and Elijah...as long as you feel that I won't believe what you're telling me. Now, I'll be the first to admit I may be a bit biased but it's simply a fact that Elijah would never just walk out like that on you. You know that, I know that, but me standing here telling you as much isn't going to do the trick. So I'll stand on the sidelines and give you the space to remember it yourself, and know, Leah, that I am not taking sides, I am still your best friend, and I am _always_ here for hugs."

Hope threw her arms around Leah just as the door flung open.

Parents have the worst timing ever.

"What does five minutes mean to you?" Hayley glared. "I've been looking everywhere for you, Hope - _come on._"

"We're _coming_," she sighed, pulling Leah behind her toward the door.

Hayley eyed her daughter's friend suspiciously as the two of them passed by.

"Klaus is looking for you," she told Leah once they were back in the main hall.

"Okay...I won't ask why. I'll just ask where."

"Gate 86."

"That's on the _complete_ other side of the terminal!"

"I think that's the point. Go._ Quickly."_

Leah rolled her eyes at Hayley but spared Hope an appreciative look before diving into the airport crowds.

"What's at Gate 86?" Hope now asked her mother. At a more leisurely pace they had begun the long walk together.

"Our flight. Your father's figured out where we're going. Apparently we're off to find the one last trustworthy witch on earth."

She suddenly stopped, noticing a dark blotch on the lip on her daughter's shirt.

"Is that…_blood_?"

Licking her thumb, she tried to wipe it off in such an overtly maternal gesture Hope squirmed away, humiliated.

"Mom, _stop_. I'm fine. It's just from earlier when I was feeding."

Hayley tilted her head ever so slowly.

"Earlier _when_ when you were feeding on _what_?"

"Are you gonna make a big deal out of this too? Right here in front of all these people?"

"Do I need to make a big deal out of it? Did you cover your tracks?"

"There's nothing to freak out about. mom. Leah taught me everything."

There were few other sentences in the English language that could make Hayley freak out more.

"She…taught you? To do what exactly?"

"What do you think?" Hope huffed, as if her mother was being purposely obtuse.

"I'm not sure. I think I need you to _tell me._"

"We shared lunch. Just leave it at that."

Hayley stood stunned, completely unsettled by the thought of her daughter so utterly embracing this new part of her vampire nature with Leah of all people at her side.

She was about to voice her concern when who of all people shoved her way back through the crowd.

She looked bothered and flushed like she'd just ran a marathon in summer and come in second place.

Hope looked her over, much confused.

"Leah, what are you doing back?"

"I'm here to tell you to move it. Our gate's been called."

"And you ran all the way here to tell us that?"

"Your dad's orders. I think he's punishing me. Just come on."

As Leah waved them along, Hope spared a glance up at departures board.

Gate 84 was the 12:45 to Logan Airport. Gate 85 was delayed to MSY-New Orleans.

But the plane out of Gate 86 was right on time to New York City.


	31. Modern Vampires of the City

They had only been in New York for one hour, seventeen minutes and three seconds but already Klaus Mikaelson was plotting murder.

There was a convenient mug of pencils right by his hand on the check-in counter and if the clerk didn't hurry up with assigning their hotel rooms perhaps a pencil to the jugular would speed things along nicely.

He pushed the temptation aside as the blonde woman looked up from her console.

"It appears you are in luck. We do indeed have some rooms available for immediate check-in."

"Fantastic. I'll need three."

"Three, sir?"

"Yes, three - you know, one more than two, one less than four..."

Klaus had to wonder if they no longer taught arithmetic in school. This was so impossibly tedious; he had a dozen things to do as soon as possible and none of them involved arguing logistics with this stellar example of human intellect.

Those pencils were looking more tempting by the minute.

"Of course," the young woman began to nod eagerly. "I understand. It'll only be one more moment."

Doubtful.

Klaus turned away from her and leaned his back against the counter. He looked out over the lobby with a frustrated sigh; if only tampering with someone's mind didn't leave such obvious side-effects he would had compelled the useless woman to hurry it up by now. As it were, Klaus was determined not to create any new loose ends when it felt like he had a dozen of them already still trailing behind him and creating a path for Mikael to follow.

If he couldn't tie them up he would have to cut them loose.

His eyes fell on Leah.

He recalled a time when his family had lived in Cadiz and he had by chance won a simply radiant Andalusian mare in a hand of cards with a Spanish lord.

At the time he had intended to breed her with his favorite horse but she had turned out to be such a truculent and troublesome creature the idea had been quickly rejected for fear she would do some terrible injury to his dear Theo.

Thinking on it now, he couldn't quite remember what he had then done with the mare after that. At least she hadn't been stabled on the estate when Mikael rode into town, beheaded Theo, and forced him and his siblings to flee once again.

The memory rankled him and Klaus had to wonder why he was even thinking about this now.

"Sir?"

He drew his eyes away from Leah and turned back toward the counter.

"Is it done?"

"Well, almost. I just need to ask before I confirm...are you sure you want _three_ rooms?"

Klaus pushed the mug of pencils further down the counter to remove the temptation completely. He now loomed over the front desk, quite livid.

"Is there really that much going on in your tiny little mind that my one request escapes even your simple capabilities?"

"What he means," Hayley slid in beside him, "is 'three is fine and thank you.'"

She ordered Klaus to behave with a single look before he could even spit out his comeback: that was _definitely_ not what he had meant.

"I don't need a translator," he groused at her harshly.

"You don't need to be an asshole either."

Although her smile never faltered the desk attendant looked utterly relieved to have some backup.

"I was just going to say," she continued on cheerfully, "that there are some wonderful suite options you may wish to consider. All our master bedrooms have king-size beds and top-of-the-line luxury en suite facilities. I'm sure your wife will enjoy the added amenities."

Hayley tried to stifle her laughter in her hand but she was simply unable to get over the face Klaus had made in that moment.

The poor desk lady looked between the couple in confusion.

"Um..." she continued. "I actually have a three bedroom suite currently available. That way both your daughters can have their own rooms."

Klaus wanted to knock Hayley over as her laughter grew louder. He also wanted to reach over and gouge out the desk clerk's eyeballs since clearly she wasn't seeing things straight.

Swallowing down the urge, he tried to ignore Hayley and reestablish some sense of order in the world. He leaned in to read the woman's name tag and then pointed out across the lobby.

"Bridgette, is it? Please, allow me to clarify. _That one _is my daughter - that one, the orphan Annie looking one…"

_"I can hear you, Klaus!"_

"…yes, that one. Ignore her. In fact, think of her as extra baggage - although that extra baggage will still need her own room."

Bridgette nodded, she had it now.

This family was absolutely crazy.

"Very well. Three rooms it is, as you wish. One moment, please. I'll see what I can do."

While she punched into her console he glared at Hayley who had finally quit laughing, still utterly amused but willing to retreat now that she was sure things were back on track with the room arrangements.

Klaus shook his head as he dug into his jacket pocket, his hand grazing the White Oak stake as he pulled out a black card.

"Put the booking under the name Mikhailov and we'll be staying for a spell so just keep this here on file."

He slid her the black credit card that bore the same alias. Bridgette smiled, taking it from him and continued to tap away at her keyboard.

"Thank you, sir," she finally replied, handing him back the card. "And here are the key cards to your rooms. I have you all on the 15th floor. If you need anything else, you can find us here at the desk or ring down from your room. Welcome to New York and please enjoy your stay at Hotel Empire."

Klaus doubted he would; this was a business trip after all, the business of course being killing Mikael.

Joining the others at the cushy armchairs in the center of the lobby he immediately handed one key over to Hayley before calling over his daughter.

Leah, as always, followed right behind her. She glanced over toward Bridgette before crossing her arms smugly.

"Not a people person, Klaus?"

"I have no idea what you mean," he ignored her. "Now listen, both of you. Before I give you your keys swear to me you understand: the two of you are not to leave your rooms for any reason. Is that clear?"

"No," Hope instantly objected. "Why do we all have to stay in separate rooms?"

"Consider it an ounce of prevention."

"As a pound of cure for what?"

"You, Leah, all of us being discovered by Mikael. I will have the White Oak stake on me at all times. If Elijah fails in his quest and Mikael comes looking for it he will go after me first. I don't want you in the way when that happens."

Hope shifted uneasily under her father's intense stare. She could tell he had wanted to add 'again' to the end of that sentence.

"Then at least let me room with Leah."

"Not a chance. I don't want you getting the idea that you're immortal just because you're a hybrid."

"That doesn't explain why I can't room with her."

"Your play dates have become too perilous for my liking. I assume that vanishing act you performed at the airport was her idea? Well it's not safe to stray and Leah is prone to it."

"I'm standing right here," Leah uncrossed her arms angrily.

"Then I say this to you too: Mikael does not need the White Oak to bring you _both_ to a swift and finite end."

Hope gulped. Leah rolled her eyes.

"Excellent," Klaus concluded. "Then we are on the same page."

"This is ridiculous," Hope wouldn't give up. "How is keeping Leah and I apart a safety measure?"

"Because unquestionably Leah at some point will deliberate disobey what I am telling her at this very moment and wander off and I do not want you with her when she does."

"He has a point," Leah couldn't help but agree. Hope sighed.

"Fine. Then how long is this stupid arrangement for?"

"Until I can find a witch who will cloak the both of you. There's a coven downtown I will visit as soon as you are settled."

"What about a compromise," Hope tried.

"No," Klaus said.

"But—"

"No," he said louder. "End of discussion."

"But you didn't even wait to hear my idea!"

"This is not one of your Faction meetings, Hope. I am under no obligation to consider any of your proposals or whatever you enjoy throwing around at that mock court you hold as a hobby. I am your father. Do not fight me on this."

"Klaus," Hayley stepped in, warning him to lower his voice. They were already drawing some attention from the other guests in the lobby. "Why don't we just get upstairs first and then work out the details...maybe after we all take some time to _calm down_."

"Fine," Klaus conceded, realizing they were indeed making a scene. "Hayley, here - take her card too and get Hope and yourself settled in."

But he still held onto the key card to Leah's room and was making no show of passing it along.

"Okay. So am I just sleeping in the lobby then?"

"You, Leah, are coming with me."

"Not unless you're heading towards the kitchen. I'm not doing anything until I get some food in me."

"Well, I am on my way to raid a blood drive. Is that good enough for you?"

Leah narrowed her eyes, sensing a trap.

"Why do you need me to go with you?"

"I need someone to carry the coolers."

"Compel yourself a bellhop then. I'm not a pack animal."

All of the sudden Klaus remembered what he had done with that stubborn Spanish mare.

Sold her to the butchers.

He wrapped his arm around Leah, pulling her in close for a sidebar.

"Have you ever considered, sweetheart, that I might simply wish to become your friend?"

Leah highly doubted it - and with good reason.

"You referred to me as 'luggage' to the desk clerk."

"Bygones. That past is in the past."

"That was only two minutes ago. You called me orphan Annie."

"An American inspiration."

"Klaus, we got in fight at the airport over how to spell the capital of Iceland."

"I forgot that extra 'r' disappeared in the 1300s…"

"You tried to turn it into a bet and you said that if I was wrong you would throw me into Mount Helka."

"A lovely mountain. Beautiful vistas."

"I Googled it on the plane. It's a volcano – an _active_ volcano."

"Then how fortunate you know how to spell Reykjavík," he smirked.

"Are you serious, right now?" she backed away. "There's no way I'm going anywhere alone with you."

"Is it so hard, Leah, to believe I would desire a minute of your company?"

"Yes! Yes times a thousand!"

Klaus frowned; Leah, naturally, was making this extremely difficult. He lowered his voice, pulling her even further away from Hope and Hayley.

"Leah, by any chance do you recall our little _chat_ this morning at the bus station?"

"It's the only reason I'm subjecting myself to yet another stay in some stupid hotel."

"Then you will also recall that on behalf of my brother I am compelled to consider your interests. Therefore, I have brought us all to New York _for you_, Leah."

She stared at him blankly.

"Did I blackout again because I definitely don't remember the conversation where I asked you to do that."

"You wanted my help to solve your little mental mystery, Leah, so let's not be ungrateful for what I have given you."

"Which is?"

"An opportunity to find your answers among one of the most knowledgeable covens in the world."

"Hell no," she stepped back, hands up in total refusal. "No way am I going _anywhere_ near any witches."

"Well they don't exactly make house calls," Klaus quibbled. "So why don't we hop over there now together, you and I, what do you say?"

It had not been a suggestion and although he had asked it as a question it really wasn't that either.

In a single swift movement, Leah grabbed the key card from his hand, stepping away as she shook her head.

"I agreed to come to New York with you but that's _all_ I agreed to do, Klaus, and I definitely didn't agree to be ordered around - by anyone. So press the issue any more and I _will_ leave. Remember Boston's just a hop, skip and a jump away the hell from you."

She turned her back to him and rejoined Hayley and Hope by the elevators.

"What was that about?" Hope asked her as they waited for the lift.

"Nothing. Your dad just wanted to know what blood type I liked. He's stocking us up a supply. So... are we going up?"

"Not yet," Klaus appeared behind them. He thrust a black card into Hayley's hand.

"It leaves less of a trace than compulsion…and it's Elijah's so knock yourself out. Buy whatever necessities you require."

"Got it," Hayley understood, pocketing the credit card.

"Sweet, Leah!" Hope chirped, spinning a little in her glee. "We get to go shopping in New York!"

"It's not as exciting as it sounds," she sighed. All her bravado had begun to crumble at Klaus' mention of Elijah.

She had now gone incredibly quiet but Hope was too excited to notice the change in her friend. She pulled on the tips of her hair with disgust.

"Let's stop by a salon too while we're out."

"Do whatever," Klaus relented, "but do not leave your mother's side wherever you go - and Leah stays here."

"You can't do that," Hope protested. "That's unfair...and doesn't make sense. Why can I go out but she can't?"

"Don't argue with your father," Hayley pulled her back, sharing a look with Klaus. "We can pick up whatever Leah needs when we're out."

"You can't enforce this," Leah objected calmly. "You can't punish me every time I don't agree with you, Klaus."

"A hypothesis I am more than willingly to put to the test."

When she fell silent and stayed silent he grinned in victory.

"Splendid. Then make a list of whatever you want. Hayley, take Hope and see to it - but be back by dark. By then this city will be swarming with vampires and I can't have any of them reporting back to Mikael. Despite the confidence I have in my brother, I do not have confidence in his plan."

At the mention of Elijah, Leah began to abuse the up-button for the elevator, which was taking its sweet time returning to the lobby. It dinged under her maltreatment and creaked as the doors opened.

"Oh look, it's here," she announced. "Can we go now, Klaus, or are there still some Nordic capitals you forgot how to spell?"

"Do not leave your room," he reminded her again as the doors to the lift closed between them.

_Finally_, Klaus sighed. Now that the children were off his hands he could focus. There was so much to do, nothing to say of the hospital he now had to raid on his own.

He really could have used the extra pair of hands.

Why was Leah so sullen and stubborn? How did Elijah get her to do anything ever?

Speak of the devil.

Klaus' phone buzzed in his jacket pocket and slipping it free he answered it with a smirk.

"Do you read minds now, Elijah? I was just about to call."

"I'm on the road, let's keep this short. Where are you?"

"Back east, like your plan demanded. How far did you get?"

"Salt Lake. I need you to send me the information about where to receive the passports from your forger in Los Angeles. I must now make it appear that you and the others are still with me if we are to successfully fool our father."

"My, my, it's certainly all business with you today."

"I don't have time to chat, Niklaus."

"And not a even second to ask how she is?"

"Leah is with you?"

"You sound relieved, brother. Having doubts about leaving her with the big bad wolf?"

There was a moment of silence over the line which Klaus was now forced to fill.

"Don't you worry, Elijah, your rose-haired beauty remains as _delightfully_ charming as ever. Some wilting around the edges, a bigger thorn than expected in my side, but safe nonetheless."

"Get her cloaked - and Hope - as soon as you can."

"You just focus on drawing Mikael away. Leave the rest to me, brother."

"I'll call again when I reach California."

For once Klaus was not the first to hang up but the overall curtness of his brother's responses had already betrayed everything he needed to know. With a crooked little smile and a dark little plan, Klaus now pocketed his cell and cut across the lobby to head downtown.

He was a tad mystified by his brother's behavior over the phone but far from torn up about it. In fact, it would be that much easier to accomplish what he had to do next if Elijah wanted nothing to do with Leah.

**End of Part 4**

**Oh come on, Klaus, what are you plotting? Leave a theory and a review and maybe we'll find out soon in Part 5! **


	32. Gone Girl Part I

**Part 5**

She stepped out of the shower and into the dream. The setting was familiar, warm, inviting; her memory had preserved every detail of their home, of their bedroom, of _him_.

He was waiting for her when she exited the en suite, standing there silently at the foot of their bed. His gaze was intrusive, his eyes unforgiving; she pulled her towel closer but could not look away.

He could not stay away.

Just earlier they had fought; just after he had left. Now he was back. Grim faced and remorseless he wanted one thing from her and it wasn't an apology.

His tie hung loose at his neck, his shirt wrinkled, his jacket abandoned. It was evidence of the damage she had done with just her words.

They had been in an argument but now it was time to make amends.

Making up, after all, was always worth the quarrel.

She was paralyzed with anticipation as he approached, purposefully slow, painfully slow; a moment of silence as he settled in front of her. Then it happened so fast she felt the world spin: his hand on her back, his fingers in her hair, his lips on her shoulder, then her neck, then her mouth...

His kiss was needy, possessive, undignified; he moved her against him with ignoble intention and as he pulled her closer unholy words spilled from his mouth and made her blood run hot, _hotter._

She begged for him to set her ablaze.

Without warning, he pulled the towel away and had her on the bed. She felt his weight descend to cover the bare expanse of her body and she willingly submitted as strong hands pinned delicate wrists to the mattress.

"_Elijah,_" she breathed, her plea drawn - desperate. There was nothing he needed to say in return; she felt his response pressing against the inside of her thigh, begging entrance but not seeking permission.

He entered her slowly, making her whine, then rolled his hips forward and made her scream.

His name was the only word she knew.

As the friction between them ignited an inferno, the fire began to consume her. Her words became slurs and her slurs became snarls; she dug her nails into his shoulders as he dragged her along toward the brink.

The cliff was approaching and he would push them over together.

Together like always.

Together like forever.

There was a loud knock at the door.

_You have got to be fucking kidding me._

Torn from her dream, Leah bolted upright in her hotel bed, panting as her heart thundered under her hand. Sweat had turned her hair into a tangled mess and the flush on her cheeks was hardly from shame.

She was going to _murder_ whoever had woken her up.

The knock came again - louder this time.

Leah groaned when she turned toward the red numbers on her clock and realized who it was at door.

Same time every night for two weeks.

Throwing off the covers she planted her feet on the floor and reluctantly got out of bed. This was not something she had any desire or energy to deal with right now. Without even bothering to turn on the light she padded her way across the lush carpeting and pulling the door open just a sliver peered through the crack.

Leah scowled.

_"What."_

"Hey," Hope waved. "What are you up to?"

"It's 3am, what the fucking hell do you think I'm up to?"

"Can I come in?" Hope sang, ignoring the rough rudeness in her friend's response. "I couldn't sleep."

Leah saw right through that innocent smile.

"Oh, no, no, nope. You've _alread_y used that excuse. Last night it was cockroaches, the night before it was the axe murderer under your bed - not to mention itchy sheets, noisy elevators, loud neighbors…you are a grown ass adult, Hope, sleep in your own damn bed."

"I wouldn't have to make up excuses if you just stopped _avoiding_ me."

"I'm not avoiding you. I'm trying to sleep. Did I mention it's 3am?"

"Then why when I came by your room at 3 _pm_ did you not answer the door when I knocked?"

"I don't know," Leah lied easily. "Napping probably?"

"Good - then you can't be tired now. I'm coming in."

Hope maneuvered her shoulder into the slim space between the post and the door, forcing it open wider even as Leah had her hand on the chain and pushed back.

"This is ridiculous, Hope. Why are you so adamant to break into my room in the middle of the night?"

"Because I know you've been avoiding me on purpose all week and I don't want you to shut me out."

"Yes, that is _literally_ what I am trying to do," Leah snarked.

Hope puffed out her cheeks in exasperation, refusing to give in so easily.

"Just because Elijah _left_ you alone, Leah, doesn't mean you have to _be_ alone."

Her hand slipped from the door and fell angrily to her side.

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

She stepped back as Hope pushed open the door fully and then shut it behind her, leaving both of them in the small foyer of the stately hotel room.

"Did you forget I have super hearing now? I heard you earlier, Leah. You weren't asleep when I came by. I heard you crying through the door."

Leah paled, embarrassed her friend had overheard her.

"What do you want?" she now asked unkindly.

"Just to talk," Hope promised, but she immediately floated across the room and threw herself into her friend's bed.

Leah crossed back over and crawled in next to Hope, pulling the duvet up and over them.

"Are we okay now? Can I go back to sleep – you won't be scared of the dark anymore right?"

"I'm not scared of the dark," Hope frowned.

Leah just sighed and turned away, pulling the blanket over her shoulders as she sank into her pillow. As much as she loved her best friend, Leah wished these nightly visits would stop. Hope's so-called sleepovers were really starting to strain her emotions. It was hard enough having to sleep in a bed without Elijah beside her but for some reason having Hope fill that empty space only made his absence even more pronounced.

"Psst, Leah…"

Silence.

"Leaah…"

"_Good night_, Hope."

She closed her eyes, praying her friend would take the hint and do the same. Instead, Leah felt a tentative hand on her shoulder as her friend hovered over her.

"I can't go to sleep."

"Are you trying?"

There was movement from the other side as Hope flung the blankets off the bed entirely.

Leah wondered if her friend has gone mad.

"What is _wrong_ with you?"

"I said. I can't sleep."

"Then count sheep – what am I supposed to do?"

"I can't sleep because I'm _worried_ about you, Leah. Talk to me."

Leah threw up her hands and gave up. She shoved the rest of the sheets aside, pulling herself up into a sitting position and leaning against the headboard.

"Well, _I'm _worried what your dad's going to do when he finds out you've been sneaking out of your room every night."

"If he finds out I'll make sure he knows it was my idea."

"Like he'll care. But really, these sleepovers have to stop. You're acting like a child."

"_I'm_ acting like a child?" Hope glared. "Leah, you're the one who's been moping around here for weeks like some emo teenager. It's bad enough I have hear that stupid drippy love song you're obsessed with on the radio all the time without having to hear you hum it to yourself all the time like some damn funeral dirge."

Leah was dumbstruck. She scoffed, raising a single finger to demand clarification.

"Are you making fun of me…because my boyfriend _left_ me?"

"He didn't leave you. He's still—"

"_He left me_," Leah snapped. "So excuse me if I'm haven't exactly been a bouncing ball of sunshine recently."

Hope reached out to touch her friend's knee sympathetically.

"I've never seen you like this," she admitted sadly. "Leah, I rarely see you at all anymore."

"That's the point. I want to be _alone - _and now I want to go to sleep. So if you're done annoying me maybe you should leave."

"Leah, I'm not here to annoy you - I'm worried. I don't want you to be so sad all the time."

"Classic Hope, making everything about her…"

"Hey!" she barked, pulling her hand away in anger. "Don't throw my friendship back in my face, Leah! I'm been trying for two weeks to pull you out of this funk. Elijah might be gone but you can't live like this everyday until he comes back."

"Nice - so now you seem to think that you can not only tell me what to _do_ but also what to _feel_ as well."

"I'm trying to give you some perspective!"

"Well the view's better from the other side of the door so why don't you check it out and _leave_!"

"Ugh!" Hope clenched her fists. "Why are you so _rude, _Leah?"

"You're the one who broke into _my room."_

"Look - you don't want to talk about your life? Fine, but did you stop to think that maybe I want to talk about mine? That I _need_ to talk about mine? I'm kinda going through a bit of a crisis in case you forgot."

"As if you'd let anyone ever forget…"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean!?"

"Go bother your parents and leave me alone," Leah growled. "God, when did you get so clingy?"

_"Clingy?"_ Hope balked, utterly offended and more than a little hurt.

"Look, I understand," Leah continued flatly. "You've just transitioned, so…."

"I've just transitioned _so what_?" Hope glowered, leaning forward and simply _daring_ Leah to finish that sentence.

"I'm only saying your emotions are heightened as your body adjusts to being a vampire...and sometimes wires can get crossed. Trust me, I speak from experience: if you're upset about one thing you may…seek answers in the wrong place."

Hope didn't quite know what Leah meant but didn't like anything it could possibly mean.

"And let me guess - you think _you're_ the wrong place?"

"I just don't want you to confuse me with the other Thompson."

_"What are you talking about?"_

"It's real simple, Hope. I'm not Aidan."

Her eyes went wide and her mouth hung open.

"_Just… unbelievable_!" Hope shouted. "Fucking unbelievable, Leah! And you think _my dad's _a paranoid narcissist? You're so fucking full of yourself you think everyone fucking loves you. Well I'm not Elijah - I don't put up with your bullshit...but then again I guess he doesn't anymore either."

Leah's voice rose as a growl in the back of her throat.

_"Shut up about Elijah." _

But Hope just laughed, darkly delighting in how easy it was to push Leah's buttons.

"What's wrong?" she taunted cruelly, "hurts to hear his name? All hung up on Elijah like a twelve year old girl?"

Even with hybrid speed Hope moved too late to evade the attack. She found herself thrown to the floor as Leah shoved her so forcefully from the bed she landed half way across the room in a pile at the foot of the armoire.

She rubbed the back of her head as she glared up at her so-called 'friend.'

"I'm not the one who deserves your anger! Don't be upset at _me. _It's Elijah who screwed you over."

"Get out or I will _throw_ you out," Leah seethed remorselessly from the bed.

"Oh, I see how it is," Hope pulled herself up slowly. "I speak the truth and you exile me for it."

"You don't know _anything_ about me and Elijah so you have _nothing_ to say."

"Leah, you promised! _You promised_ me you'd still be my friend even if you and Elijah broke up!"

"I said _get out_," Leah screamed, so loudly they heard her down the hall and two floors up.

Hayley and Klaus down the hall would have definitely heard her too.

Realizing her parents and maybe even the NYPD were likely on their way, Hope dusted herself off and headed for the door, still so riled up her face had gone red with anger.

She turned around just as she reached the entryway.

"Don't think I don't know what you're going through, Leah. I get it - I do. I miss my boyfriend too you know."

"Except Aidan's dead," she said without thinking, "so you don't have the torture of waiting for him to return."

In the ringing silence that followed Leah realized what she had said. Her hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh my God, Hope - _I'm so sorry._"

"Don't be," she shrugged, blinking back her tears. "Just have fun being a miserable asshole alone."

She slammed the door - hard - and the entire hotel heard her leave.


	33. Gone Girl Part II

**Welcome back, dear readers. This chapter is very near to my heart - hope you enjoy.**

Hope did not appreciate whoever was knocking incessantly on her door.

It was a little after dawn the next day and already her peaceful day was about to be ruined. For a moment Hope thought it might be one of her parents coming to confront her about all the ruckus last night. Certainly someone had complained about all the shouting to the front desk.

But then she realized there was only one person who'd dare to knock in such an obnoxious rhythm. She pulled the door open and immediately moved to close it again.

"Wait!" Leah stepped forward. "Please, just... I'm here to apologize - and I brought you this."

She raised the warm mug in her hand, her thumb brushing over the hotel logo.

Hope stared at it blankly.

"You bought me a mug full of blood to apologize?"

"Breakfast - and they were out of those chocolate boxes with the teddy bears in the gift shop."

Hope rolled her eyes, her hand just itching to slam the door in Leah's face.

"Please take it," Leah begged, "and make me feel better...or at least let me come in before it gets cold."

Hope sighed but relented. Stepping back she waved her through, accepting the mug even more reluctantly.

She shut the door and turned to find Leah already on her bed. Leaning against the headboard, she had spread her long legs out over the duvet and tucked one of the pillows to her chest.

Dragging her feet across the room, Hope abandoned the mug on the writing desk and pulled out the chair to take a seat.

"_What, _Leah?"

"I'm so, _so _sorry, Hope. I didn't mean to say what I said about Aidan."

"Why should you be?_" _she scathed. "You were just saying what you believe - what _everyone_ believes."

"That's not true - just because we haven't heard from Aidan doesn't mean your dad or me or any of us have jumped to that conclusion. I mean, no news is good news, right?'

"Do you _actually_ believe that?"

Silence.

"That's what I thought," Hope scowled, crossing her arms and turning away.

"Hey, look," Leah demanded. "I get that I'm all over the place and just saying shit left and right but _I'm sorry _and I'm _trying_ to apologize for my part in our fight last night... so will you just let me?"

"_Your _part in our fight?"

"Well that's all I can take responsibility for."

"So you're saying last night was my fault?"

"I'm just saying that if you hadn't been in _my room_ last night then I wouldn't have to be in _yours_ this morning."

"So you are..." Hope huffed in disbelief. "You're blaming me for trying to be a good friend. For just trying to be there for you like you were there for me."

"Here's a thought," Leah said sarcastically. "Have you maybe stopped to consider that some people like to bear their own crosses and don't want the help?"

Hope rolled her eyes, throwing her back into the chair.

"God, you sound like Elijah," she scoffed.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Leah's nails began to sink into the pillow.

"Not to...dig up the hatchet I thought we just buried... but I'm still waiting for _your_ apology by the way."

_"Mine?" _Hope blinked.

"So I guess I do need to remind you of all the shit things things you said last night too."

"Fair enough - but where was the lie in any of it?"

"Are you serious right now, Hope? You're not even going to _try_ to take back any of it?"

"Nope - I stand by it all. You're too hung up on Elijah."

In her head, Leah was counting backwards from ten, struggling to stay calm.

Nine...eight...

...seven.

_Fuck it._

"You get _one_ warning," Leah growled. "You're way out of line, Hope."

"Oh really? Because _you're_ the one who_ threw me into a dresser!"_

_"You deserved it!"_

_"And you deserved to hear the truth!"_

"I know you're my friend but _no one_ gets to make judgments about me or my relationships - not even you, Hope."

"Me? You mean the _only_ person here who gives a damn about you? My parents couldn't care less if you lock yourself in your room, stop eating, stop _feeding_..."

"What - are you _stalking_ me now?"

"I'm worried about you, Leah! You're starting to scare me - none of your behavior is normal!"

"And what the hell do you know about 'normal', hybrid princess Hope Mikaelson?"

Said hybrid princess straightened in her chair and took a deep breath. Leah was upset - that was clear enough, but Hope wasn't about to let her friend's wild provocations drag her down from the high road.

She raised a hand calmly, refusing to engage.

"I'm not going to argue with you, Leah. You just don't understand because these things aren't important to you."

So much for staying out of it. Hope had hit a mark she hadn't exactly been aiming for.

Leah narrowed her eyes and hissed.

"What things _exactly _aren't important to me?"

"Like functional, healthy relationships, you know - things real people want in life. But then again you wouldn't know what real people want. Real people don't just start dating the first thousand year old vampire they meet."

"Seriously?" Leah laughed scornfully. "Hope, I never said I was normal, or functional, or whatever, but if you think _your _relationships are healthy then you are absolutely out of your fucking mind."

"My relationships are _just fin_e, thank you very much."

"What, all five of them?"

She halted dramatically, counting on her fingers.

" – oh, wait, I'm forgetting Rebekah - just like everyone else. "

"_Watch it_," Hope jumped forward. "That's _my_ family you're talking about."

"People deserve the truth, right? I'm just doing my duty and laying it out for you."

"And your point?"

"It's that you don't know what the hell you're talking about, Hope. You've only ever had one boyfriend - ever - which means you're hardly in any position to be spouting judgments about mine."

"I've been with Aidan for five years, Leah. I'm not completely ignorant about these things."

"And before Aidan? Did your psycho daddy kill everyone else?"

"My parents are just protective. You know that."

"Your parents are just _crazy_ and I _definitely_ know that. I've never met such a co-dependent pair of narcissists."

"Ha! That's rich coming from you – like you don't just _love_ taking the world by storm with an Original vampire on your arm. Talk about rags to riches - Leah St. Ann trying _so hard_ to be Leah Mikaelson."

_Oof. _Leah had felt that one in her gut.

She withdrew her nails from the pillow, pulling out feathers as she chucked it aside.

"You know, Hope, you've transitioned into a real bitch."

She rolled off the bed but Hope jumped up and zoomed in front of her before she could leave.

_"Where do you think you're going?"_

"A million miles away from you."

"No, _don't_," Hope suddenly spooked, her eyes going wide. "Please - don't go back to Boston."

"_Chill out._ Jesus, I was just going back to my room."

"Good. I need you here, Leah, and you need me too. There's no one else here who has your back."

"Says the girl who just took a chainsaw to my self-esteem. So if you'll excuse me, I need to go lick my wounds."

Leah took off toward the door and Hope ended up shouting at her back.

"And what? You think you're the _only_ one whose feelings are hurt?"

"'Feelings are hurt?'" Leah turned around laughing. "What is this, some middle school fight on the playground? If your feelings are so fucking hurt then go run and cry to your parents - like you always do."

"I do not," Hope stepped forward.

"Pul-_lease. _Any problem you've ever had is quickly taken care of by _daddy_, or _mommy_, or Uncle Elijah, or Auntie Beks. Nothing bad has ever happened to _Princess Mikaelson_."

"_How would you know?_" Hope snapped. "Where have you been these last five years to even know? You ran away to Boston after graduation and never came back."

"It's called moving. I _moved_ to Boston."

"And what did you expect me to do without you?"

"I don't know? Make some new friends?"

"You're my only friend, Leah! I don't want other friends!"

"My God, Hope, can you _hear_ how desperate and needy you sound right now? I didn't come back to New Orleans because I didn't want to – simple as that – it had _nothing_ to do with you!"

"You _left _me!"

"I didn't _leave_ you, you self-centered _brat._ I just wanted to leave that godforsaken city."

"But it's your home! You were born in New Orleans!"

"And I died there, remember? Hope, I still have _nightmares_ about what the witches did to me. I still dream of that night in the cemetery where they ran a knife across my throat for their stupid Harvest ritual. You think shit like that just leaves you when you magically pop back to life?"

Hope's hard expression softened as she flushed with guilty shame.

"I didn't know…Leah…about the nightmares..."

"Well, there are _a lot_ of things you don't know about me - because you _never_ asked. Because you're always so wrapped up in your stupid princess perfect life to even realize not everyone's life is a fairytale."

"Well, it's not like you were around for me to notice…" Hope threw out in her defense.

"Oh, bullshit. We talked everyday - Skyped everyday. But it was always, oh - what party or gala did Hope need a dress for? How should she do her hair? What should she say in her stupid Faction address..."

"You never _said_ anything—you never said anything was bothering you. I didn't know anything was wrong, Leah."

"You didn't _want_ to know. You didn't want to know that your best friend, your only friend, was falling apart. You wanted to ignore the signs - you wanted it not to be true. Even last week, when I told you _everything_, even after you learned about Germany, about Italy, Pennsylvania, Nebraska – God, I've left signs across the fucking world that I'm not okay but you and Elijah just ignored them all."

"Oh, no, don't throw me in with Elijah. He's always with you. I'm not. Maybe if you hadn't left New Orleans I would have noticed your life's a mess... but you left the city – you left me – so don't blame me for not realizing sooner."

"And there you go, making it about you again."

"It _is_ about me! You are literally alive because of me, Leah - because I brought you back! And even before then you were just some parish ward until you met me - a nobody. I _made_ you who you are."

"Please - continue. Tell me how you magically transformed my life," Leah spat.

"Don't get all high and mighty with me. Elijah would never have met you if I hadn't sat next to you that first day senior year, if I hadn't wanted you as a friend, invited you over to _my house -_ so don't you dare forget that it was _my uncle _you went behind my back and started sleeping with."

"Then let me _officially_ thank you, Hope, for taking pity of me and becoming my friend. Wow - what would my broke-ass, low-class pathetic excuse for a life have been without you – oh, wait I know: _mine_."

"And being my friend made it better!"

"And being your friend got me killed! If I could only go back…"

"...you would do nothing differently, Leah, you are kidding no one."

"Well, ever considered that if it wasn't for _me_ you would never have dated Aidan?"

"I knew him years before I knew you, Leah. It's not like I just dated him because he was your brother."

"I don't know… you Mikaelsons like to keep it close to the family. You know your dad and my mom had a thing…in some weird parallel world I could actually be your sister…"

"That's gross, Leah. What is wrong with you?'

"How long do you have?"

"Ugh…do you even enjoy being bitter and sarcastic all the time?"

"Humor is your only defense when you don't get to grow up in an ivory tower."

"You're not protecting yourself, Leah, you're just pushing everyone away. I don't hide my emotions – I wear them on both sleeves so everyone can see. That way you can't lie to people. That way people don't get hurt."

Leah shook her head, unwilling to listen to Hope Mikaelson of all people try to teach her anything about emotional well-being.

"You and Elijah totally have the righteous asshole thing down to an art."

"See, there – that's what I'm talking about; hiding behind jokes and deflecting with cynicism. No wonder you don't want to get married – you'd rather pretend to be a real person than just give up the act, take a risk, and try to be one."

"You don't know me _at all._"

"How can I, Leah? You never want to talk! How can I know what you feel if you don't _tell me!_"

"My mother, Davina, my friend Zach – everyone I know out there in the world dead and you can't even _guess_ how that makes me feel? Do I really need to describe to you how it feels to keep living as everyone around you dies? And then you died, Hope - and I was there…and then Elijah…"

She stopped herself short and began to back away toward the door.

"No. No, way - I am _not_ doing this right now."

"Leah - do not walk out on me! Talk to me!"

_"I can't!"_ she roared, tears forming in frustration. "I can't tell you what I don't know! _Why won't you let this go?"_

"Because I need to know! You have to tell me before you go!"

_"Tell you what?" _she nearly screamed. "What the hell do you want from me, Hope?"

"Your secret to how you do it - how you remain so strong despite everything - how you stay so _human_."

They stared at each other in the ringing silence for what seemed like hours.

Leah blinked first. She dropped her hands and lowered her voice.

"Let me get this right, Hope. This entire _disaster_ of a conversation was all because you wanted some advice?"

"I could never survive what you're going through, Leah. If Aidan really is dead...I'm afraid of what I'll do. I don't want to be like my mother - I don't want to turn it off."

"Turn what off?" Leah crept closer. "Hope, what are you talking about?"

"Don't you understand?" she answered softly, avoiding her friend's angry glare. "I don't hate you, Leah. I don't judge you or resent you - I just want to _be_ you: resilient. You saw me die, Elijah left you - if I were you I don't think I would want to feel any of that."

When she realized what Hope meant Leah's hand flew to her heart.

"All this week you've been so desperate to check up on me because you're worried I'll turn off my humanity - aren't you?"

It was a long silent second before Hope looked up from the floor. There were tears in her eyes as she spoke.

"I once thought that the worst thing that could happen to me while on this journey was if you left me to travel it alone. Then everything happened - to you, to me, to us... just _so fast_ \- and I realized the worst thing would be if it was all too much, if you turned it off and left me in a way I couldn't follow, Leah. If I lost you for good."

She sucked in a sob as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"And I cannot lose anything else," she cried. "Leah, I've lost so much already."

There was no anger that could stand against the raw honesty of those words. Leah stood there in silence, unable to say anything, only able to realize just how much her friend loved her and how much she loved her back.

When words failed her, she threw open her arms.

"Promise me," Hope begged, hugging Leah desperately. "Don't leave before this is over."

"I won't," she held her. "I promise."

"Because Aidan's gone and Elijah's gone and it's just you and me now."

"I know."

"And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything I said."

"Hope, _I know. _And I am too, but it's okay. We're going to get through this - all of this. We'll both be okay."

Leah pulled her best friend closer, letting her shoulder grow wet with her tears.

"I promise you, Hope - this can't last forever. We'll all come home someday."


	34. The Taming of the Shrew

_Two weeks later_

Bridgette loved her job. She was a people person, an extrovert, happy to please even the most particular guest. She did not, however, like the night watch at the front desk. The blonde clerk yawned into her coffee, bored; in the city that never slept the hotel was oddly deserted at four in the morning.

She perked up as the elevator doors opened onto the lobby. Immediately she shoved her magazine under the counter and plastered on a professional smile as the guest approached.

"An early good morning to you, Mr. Mikailov. How can I—oh, _oh dear_."

As he marched up to the front desk he dragged the girl she remembered from weeks ago with him. While Bridgette had seen Mr. Mikailov come and go through her lobby nearly every day for the last month, she wondered what this young lady had been up to that she couldn't recall seeing her since check-in.

It was obvious from the way she resisted that she had not at all come downstairs willingly.

Coming to the counter, Klaus slammed Leah into it, throwing up his hands with a snarl.

"Now stay and for once in your miserable life _obey_!"

She caught herself - barely - and held her arm to her chest as the raw marks slowly healed.

"You didn't have to _drag_ me, Klaus - I'm _bleeding_. You broke the skin."

"Put my daughter in danger again, Leah, and I promise you I'll break more than that."

"We were just going down the street for a drink. I swear we were going to be careful."

"Do you think this is a bloody game? Us, hiding from Mikael?"

"And yet you're free to come and go at all hours of the day to do God knows what with some witch downtown."

"I asked if you wished to accompany me. You most stubbornly refused my offer."

"If I don't overfeed, I won't blackout. I don't need some witch of yours, Klaus, to tell me what I already know."

"No, what you need is a witch who will wrap a magical leash around your skinny little neck and make you stay put. Now shut up, stand there, and if you even think about planning another midnight raid with my daughter I will personally chain you to my side so I will always know exactly where you are."

Bridgette thought this was probably a good time to say something - or maybe call the police.

She cleared her throat.

"If I might interrupt for a second…"

Klaus and Leah suddenly turned toward the woman having completely forgotten she was even there.

"Hi, yes. I was just wondering…is there actually something I can help you with?"

"Doubtful unless you're looking to adopt a red-headed step-child."

"Oh, for the love of—"

Leah stopped herself short as Klaus plucked a pen from the mug on the counter and shot her a deadly glare.

He began to tap it in agitation and Bridgette looked on awkwardly.

A very particular guest indeed.

"Is there perhaps something else I could assist you with, Mr. Mikailov? For example, is there a problem with your room?"

"The problem is that this _urchin_ refuses to stay in hers."

Leah rolled her eyes, slamming one hand on the counter as she tried to explain for the _hundredth_ time.

"_I _was in my room. It was Hope that—ow, _oww_."

Klaus grabbed her arm and yanked Leah to his side violently.

How had Elijah ever gotten her to shut up? It seemed to Klaus that everything out of her mouth was either an ignorant excuse or some juvenile cry for attention. He was not here to entertain her, to listen to her, to protect her despite what he had promised his brother.

If it came down to Hope's safety and Elijah's wishes, there simply was no contest.

He shoved Leah forward in front of the blonde desk clerk.

"Bridgette, is it? You wish to help? Then help me to keep _this_ one from leaving this bloody hotel."

"I thought the point of Elijah leaving was so we wouldn't actually have to hide while in hiding."

"My brother left to protect _Hope. _Care to keep reminding me why else he left or are you going to shut up now?"

Bridgette's hand hovered over the computer mouse in disbelief at what she was witnessing. Still, she kept smiling. She had already told herself she wasn't going to get involved with whatever was going on with this family. Her job was to make sure the guests were happy with the hotel, not with each other.

"Am I right to assume you wish to request a change of rooms?"

"This hotel doesn't happen to have a dungeon, does it?"

"No sir, but we do have some rooms with double beds. Perhaps I can put the both of you in a single room?"

_"No!"_ both hybrids shouted in unison.

"Something else for her," Klaus groaned. "A cage would also do."

Bridgette simply nodded, struggling to take it all in stride. This wasn't the most demanding guest she had ever worked with but certainly the oddest. She continued to smile politely as she checked the room availability on her screen.

"Well…I do have that suite available if you're still interested."

"A cage would be better."

"We're, uh…all out of cages at the moment."

"Fine. Give me the blasted suite."

"Of course," Bridgette nodded, sighing at his bluntness; rude guests – they always got her down. She had always believed kindness was contagious but apparently Mr. Mikailov was immune.

She drew her eyes back to her screen.

"One second, please, while I process your upgrade and get you your new key cards. Can I have you sign this?"

She pushed a sheet in front of him and Klaus clicked the end of his pen and signed while she explained.

"All our suites are comprised of separate bedrooms off a common eating and sitting area. Would you like a room with a view of the park?"

"I don't care. As long as there's a lock on the door so I can shut Leah in until my bloody brother can come claim her."

"Well, actually, sir, the locks are on the – "

"Klaus! _What are you doing with her_?"

All three of them turned around to see Hope Mikaelson stomp off the elevator. You didn't need to see the angry scowl plastered on her face to know she was furious.

When Hope called him "Klaus" the hybrid knew what that meant.

He didn't care how disappointed his daughter was in him. He would disappoint her a hundred times over if it kept her alive.

Hope made eye contact with Leah and tried to race over to her.

She didn't get very far. Klaus launched himself from the counter and storming toward Hope he met her halfway.

"I thought I told you _stay upstairs_."

"…and then you dragged Leah _downstairs _so here I am. What are you doing with her?"

"No, no - back into the lift now. I will not discuss this with you."

"Dad, are you hurting her? This isn't Leah's fault!"

"Where is your mother? Go to her now."

"I'm not a child, anymore - stop treating me like one and tell me what you're doing with Leah!"

Klaus prayed that if he told her then a satisfied Hope would return upstairs.

"Leah is fine. She is simply helping me update our living arrangements. Go upstairs and pack up your room."

"Then let her come upstairs with me," Hope tried to negotiate.

"Later, sweetheart, I promise...you can have your friend back after I am done with her."

Hope frowned - that didn't sound good. When her father had stepped out of the elevator to find her and Leah on the other side of the doors waiting to take it down, patience, understanding, and forgiveness were the complete opposite expressions on his face.

He hadn't waited to hear her explain it wasn't Leah's fault, that she had been the one to suggest their outing - Klaus had simply grabbed Leah by the arm, dragged her into that elevator, hit the down button and disappeared.

It had been such a long time since Hope had feared for her friend's life.

"Not later," she now demanded. "Let her go _now._ If this is about me – I'm fine. We're cloaked - I'm was never in danger."

"Leah's actions put all of us in danger."

"You're so paranoid, Dad, you're embarrassing me."

"I'm trying to keep you safe!

"Leah's not the enemy!"

Klaus' nostrils flared as he adamantly disagreed with his daughter. Anyone who was not working with him was against him and Leah was not making his job any easier by making herself a bigger target than she already was.

She was a wolf he had by the ear; a tiger he had grabbed by the tail. Leave it to Leah to bite the hand that fed her.

He had considered telling her what he'd discovered downtown but worried the truth would spook her - send her running, make her do something even stupider than what she was already doing every night.

He had also considered telling Elijah - in fact he had been ordered to tell his brother - but that was not part of his plan.

His plan, hopefully, would get everyone out of this alive.

But first Hope needed to let Leah go so he could do what he needed to do.

"Hope," he began slowly. "I need you to trust me."

Klaus lowered his voice, pushing her back towards the lifts.

"There are matters at work here of which you are not aware. Yes, we were able to cloak you from Mikael but there have been...complications," he spoke even lower, "with Leah. The spell is not taking. Which means you can't wander off with her - it's not safe, do you understand me?"

"What do you mean the spell's not taking? What's wrong with your witch?"

"Nothing - he comes highly recommended, I assure you. Now, go upstairs, and concern yourself with anything other than Leah."

Before she could protest, he grabbed arm and began to drag her back across the lobby.

"Dad, let go of me!"

"This is not up for debate. You do what I say and when I say it."

Hope resisted wildly, demanding answers as she tried to twist out of her father's grip.

_"_What are you planning to do with Leah? Tell me where you're taking her!"

"Not you're concern, Hope. Get in the lift."

Hope yanked herself free of her father's grasp and spun around to confront him.

_"Klaus, tell me where you are taking my best friend."_

He seethed at his own daughter's stubbornness. He began to negotiate with her like the naive, little girl she was.

"Downtown, Hope. If your friend's not going to follow my orders than I need to get her straightened out immediately."

"Wait – _what?_?" Leah now overheard, having finished compelling Bridgette to not call the police. "Straighten me out? What the hell does that mean?"

Klaus growled in frustration; if it wasn't one it was the other.

He raised the pen at her in warning.

"Silent as the grave, Leah - you stay by that counter. You do not move."

Neither the threat in his voice or the one in his hand registered with her. She was simply blinded by rage.

"Like hell am I going anywhere with you - ever!"

"At yet here you are with me instead of at Elijah's side."

Klaus' glare was icy; Leah's blood boiled.

"You're not _my_ father," she raged at him, "and even if you were I _still_ wouldn't listen to you!"

Her shout turned into a cry of pain.

Leah suddenly fell backwards, clutching at the counter, wincing - Klaus had moved so fast she only perceived the pen as it sprouted from her leg.

Hope watched in horror, a scream held in by both hands over her mouth.

She turned on her father and shoved him in the chest – hard.

"What is _wrong_ with you?!"

When she moved to push past him and help Leah, Klaus grabbed her by both shoulders and spun her around.

"Go. Upstairs. Now."

"Too bad you can't compel me."

"But I can compel Leah and I will compel her to jump off the roof of this hotel if you do not go upstairs _now_."

She glanced over her father's shoulder just as Leah yanked the pen from her leg in a slur of swears. Hope found herself wishing Elijah were around to smack some sense into her father.

"That's Leah, Dad. That's _my friend_. That was completely unnecessary."

"Oh, entirely so," he readily countered, "and until Mikael is dead my word is law. So go upstairs. Go to your room. Lock your door and do not leave until I come to retrieve you myself. You will obey me or I will not think twice before teaching you the same lesson I am teaching Leah."

Klaus let go of his daughter dramatically, hovering just in case she still harbored any intention of disobeying him.

"This isn't her fault," she reminded him bitterly, backtracking toward the elevators.

He didn't need to say a word for Hope to know her father simply didn't care.

"If she's not upstairs in five minutes I will call Elijah. I'll find his number, call him and tell him everything, _Klaus_."

She reluctantly got into the elevator, glaring at her father until the doors shut in front of her.

Klaus was still staring at the them long after they had closed. It hurt that his daughter had tried to manipulate him; it hurt even more she had known how to do it.

But he swallowed it all down because now was not the time to waste time on feelings.

They could emote all they wanted when Mikael was dead.

He slowly turned back to Leah, not quite neglecting the timer his daughter had set for him.

"Now, where were we?"

"Fuck you," she snarled, massaging the sting in her leg as the wound slowly healed.

Klaus ignored her vulgar outburst, gesturing to Bridgette as he approached the front desk.

"Did you compel her?"

"You mean compel her to stop screaming and forget you just skewed me? _Are you out of your mind?"_

"I believe that's you - so whether you like it or not you will come with me downtown."

_"I said no witches - no magic, no spells, no you."_

No - Klaus hated that word. He would have compelled her consent but was already keenly aware of the growing list of abuses he would eventually have to justify to his brother.

Sooner rather than later if Hope wasn't bluffing.

No matter - there were other ways to earn obedience; a wild beast will bear the yoke only after it has been broken.

His brother had left him alone to tame Leah and so Klaus felt completely justified in the use of force in training. A pen to the leg was nothing - child's play - and yet only Leah would let such a show of violence encourage her bad behavior; with his brother always protecting her clearly she had never learned to properly fear the Original Hybrid.

Klaus, however, didn't need to use force to crush her spirit. He did not need to tell the whole truth either.

"I don't care what Elijah begged me yesterday, Leah, if you do agree to come with me I will snap you neck and drag you to that coven myself. He can demand every single day I do otherwise but he is certainly not here to stop me."

He knew he'd hit his mark when he watched her wobble on her sore leg and stumble backwards.

"Every single day...you talk with Elijah?"

"What do you think I was doing right before I ran into you?" Klaus smirked, soaking in the sight of her hurt disbelief.

Leah was reeling. She had been under the impression for weeks that Elijah was on some secret, important mission – that he was off the grid, inaccessible.

Incommunicative.

"Today?" she echoed back weakly.

"And everyday for a month," Klaus continued with nonchalant cruelness. "How else could Elijah keep me updated about his progress? Oh, don't look so surprised, love. Just because he doesn't call you doesn't mean he's forgotten how to pick up the phone."

His head snapped back as Leah slapped him.

"Careful…" he growled, grabbing her wrist and lowering her hand from his face.

"You miserable asshole! How could Elijah call me? You won't let me have a phone!"

"I can't have you calling Mikael."

"_You're insane_," she spat at him, yanking her arm free. "You're absolutely fucking insane!"

"And as someone once mixed up in Harvest magic let me remind you that _you_ are a liability, sweetheart, one that I would've gladly eliminated years ago if my bloody brother hadn't tripped over the first pretty thing that crossed his path and lost all his wits when he smacked his head on the pavement."

"I'm not _intimated_ by you, Klaus."

"Just one of your many flaws. Nothing that can't be remedied."

"Touch me again and Elijah will be the _least_ of your concerns."

"Elijah is a sentimental fool –"

_"Elijah isn't a monster like you!"_

A resounding crack echoed through the lobby as he snapped her neck – clean, quickly, a crime of passion.

Klaus watched Leah fall to the floor with a sigh of relief - he still had two minutes to get her upstairs.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, stepping over Leah's body to approach the desk. He was still waiting on those new room keys after all.

Bridgette smiled, ready and happy to oblige. As it was, the poor girl only loved her job because she'd been compelled far too often to forget how exciting it truly could be.


	35. A Swiftly Tilting Planet

"Enough!" Hayley jumped up, coming between the warring parties. "Time out, everyone!"

The family had relocated to the tower suite and settled in the living room. It was open and spacious and the tall ceilings nicely amplified the argument that had been raging between Klaus and his daughter for the last twenty minutes.

The cause of their row was still out cold on the couch with a broken neck.

Hayley didn't care so much about peace as much as quiet. Things had started to get loud and the last thing she felt like dealing with was hotel security banging on the door and asking a bunch of questions about the apparently dead girl in their living room.

"Okay," she now decided. "This is what we're going to do. Hope, you stay and watch Leah."

"Like she's going anywhere," Hope rolled her eyes.

"She'll be up soon. Just give her a blood bag when she does - she'll be fine."

Hayley uncrossed her arms as her daughter stormed off toward the fridge in the adjoining kitchen.

"And you," she now glared at Klaus. "With me."

"What did I do?" he grumbled. "Certainly nothing permanent."

"Just 'cause Leah heals doesn't mean you can attack her."

"I was provoked!"

"Sure - and you can tell me all about it - but not _here."_

She nodded toward their daughter and Klaus understood.

He reluctantly trailed Hayley down the long corridor toward the master bedroom at the back of the suite. He rolled his eyes as she led him into the large en suite bathroom, closed the door and turned on the faucet.

"Is this really necessary?" he wondered sourly, his voice deafened by the stream of water.

"I don't want Hope to overhear me calling you out on your bullshit."

"Oh, here we go. Yes, Hayley, I snapped Leah's neck. Can you and Hope possibly move on from that minute little detail and get to the larger, more important fact that _she'll live_."

"Can't say the same about you when Elijah finds out."

"Oh bloody hell - not you too. I'd had thought you of all people would look favorably on my actions."

"You _attacked_ our daughter's best friend."

"A little discipline never hurt," he smirked.

"Look, Klaus, we've _talked_ about this. We only strong-arm people when necessary and _least_ of all when those people _mean _something to our daughter_."_

"I did this _for_ our - "

"Stop," she cut him off, hand in his face. "No more of those canned responses you've been throwing at me for a _month, _Klaus. It's time for you to tell me what's going on that's got you acting like this."

Rubbing a hand down his tired face, Klaus exhaled slowly.

"Nothing you can help me with," he revealed almost sadly.

"Maybe tell me and let me make that decision myself? You can trust me."

He stared at her for a hard, long minute. That whole time she never looked away.

"I don't want Hope to know."

Hayley reached over and turned on the second faucet.

"Spill."

"It's Leah...the spell's still not taking."

"The cloaking spell? You tried it again today? What's that - the..."

"Fourth time in a month. The witch thought the full moon might inspire some success."

"You mean this witch you won't tell me anything about?" she frowned.

"I trust him, Hayley, and that's all you need to know right now. The only name you need to concern yourself with is Mikael's and what it means if we can't cloak Leah against him."

Hayley dropped her voice even more, crossing her arms with concern.

"Well what does it mean?" she nearly hesitated to ask.

"It means there'll be one less witch in the world soon if I keep getting riddles instead of answers from him."

"What's he trying to say is wrong?"

"Apparently magic cannot override magic."

"Can't override magic - what the hell does that mean?"

"I assure you, Hayley, I would be in a much better mood if I knew for sure. Four weeks and all we've worked out is there's something going on inside of Leah that's interfering with the cloaking spell."

"What do you mean interfering? Like white noise... or static?"

"Which the signal can't get through. So we can't cloak Leah from Mikael. We can't cloak her at all."

"And you didn't think this was something I needed to know _immediately_?"

"Quite frankly, no. I didn't see the use in telling anyone if there's nothing we can do about it."

"After what you did to her today, Klaus, Leah deserves the truth. If you know something you need to tell her."

"What is this - Hope's influence? Is this the sire bond once again making you care so bloody much about Leah?"

Klaus had touched a sore spot with Hayley. She pulled herself up to her full height and laid into him hard.

"I care about _Hope_ and if you keep hurting her by hurting Leah you and I are going to have a problem, Klaus."

"Then since you're so _fond_ of her, I'll leave it to you to babysit Leah and make sure she doesn't leave this suite. Which reminds me to ask - where exactly were you this evening when I caught our daughter and that wandering red-headed willow sneaking out of this hotel?"

"They weren't sneaking out - I...I told Hope she could go."

"You did _not,_" Klaus fumed.

"Look, I didn't tell her she could leave the hotel. Just that she could go up to the roof."

"You're just as bad as Leah," he mocked her. "And here I thought I was leaving our daughter with a responsible adult."

"Hey!" she snapped. "I know you've got a thousand years on all of us, Klaus, but that doesn't give you the right to go around ordering people to their rooms, treating them like kids, and snapping their necks."

"Oh, and it all comes back around the Leah, doesn't it? Don't you see, Hayley? I'm going against ever single instinct when it comes to that girl. There are too many questions surrounding her and I will tell you now - Hope will not like any of the answers. But it is for her, Hayley, it is for our _daughter_, that snapping Leah's neck was all I did. And contrary to popular belief, I am trying to honor my brother! I am trying to get us all out of this alive! If you would just _work_ with me - "

"_On what?_ What is your plan, Klaus? Tell me!"

Even over the water they heard the loud swearing coming from the living room.

"Leah's awake," Klaus slammed off one faucet. "Time to face the bloody music."

"Your funeral - not mine," she pulled the other one closed.

They emerged into the living room in tandem, a unified front only in appearance.

Kneeling by the couch, Hope was helping Leah sit up.

"You owe her an apology," she glared at her father.

She didn't wait for it, instead passing over the blood bag.

Leah ignored the offer; she wasn't paying attention to Hope either. Her focus was drawn to the cold intensity of Klaus' eyes as he stared her down.

"It has been brought to my attention that I may have been a bit too _draconian_ in our earlier interaction..."

"You _think_?"

"...that being said, I cannot have you defying me ever time I open my mouth, Leah."

He felt her hostile stare boring into his back as he crossed the room and settled behind the bar cart. Picking up a glass, Klaus shook his head in resignation and actually chuckled.

"Leah St. Ann. I admire your spirit."

He dropped in two ice cubes and didn't look up from his chore.

"And perhaps - in a different life - we could have been friends."

Setting down the decanter, he crossed into the living room and handed her the tumbler.

"But we are not friends and I do apologize to anyone for my actions, but perhaps a truce, if you are able to realize that for now at least we are on the same team and the stakes are too high for us not to be."

Taking the glass from him, Leah agreed to the implicit terms of their new peace.

Hope thought the world must have spun off its axis - or Leah had amnesia.

"I'm sorry - am I missing something between him snapping your neck and now?"

"Leah and I have come to an understanding," Klaus spoke for her, turning back to make another drink. "It merely took some light motivation."

"You don't need to threaten me - just put me to work," Leah finally said, downing her drink in one go. "You can't expect me to just sit around and do nothing for weeks - let me help."

"Helping is dangerous if you don't know what you're doing."

"Then tell me what to do. I can plot, I can fight, I can look things up on the internet."

"You can stay here and stay safe," he concluded passing the second glass over to Hayley.

"Leah's right," she looked up at him. "Whatever you are planning, it'll go three times faster with three more hybrids."

"You? Maybe. Them? Not even a question. They're too inexperienced."

"And how old and experienced was I when I got thrown into your crazy Mikaelson world - yet I held my own against the vampires and the witches and even you, Klaus. So don't stand here and insult me or them by underestimating any of us."

"Then what are you suggesting?"

"You can start by leveling the playing field and telling _everyone_ what's been going on for the last month."

Hayley was trying to push him into a corner and Klaus did not appreciate it one bit. She didn't even realize what a Pandora's box of revelations she was urging him to open right here in front of their own daughter.

A classic deflection was an abrupt change in subject.

"Leah – I'll see about getting you a phone and passing your number to my brother."

She nearly choked on her blood bag.

"What?" she coughed, turning in her seat to face him. "Is this some sort of trick?"

"Not at all - rather simply a sign of good faith that I am not keeping anything from you as Hayley is suggesting."

He didn't miss the lethal glare Hayley shot him across the counter but he easily ignored it.

"When?" Leah actually smiled, delirious at the thought of hearing Elijah's voice. "When can I talk to him?"

"Three days," Klaus announced, speaking directly to her. "In three days Elijah will have left the country and we can be sure that Mikael is off our trail. Once my brother confirms as much, then I will _consider _sharing with you the fruit of this month's labor and invite you to join in the harvest."

"Ugh, don't say the word 'harvest'" Leah gagged, tossing her blood bag aside. She stood with Hope's help and together they set off to explore their new rooms, leaving a very angry Hayley with a mildly guilty Klaus.

She shot him a disapproving glare as she grabbed the bottle of bourbon and began to pour herself a glass.

"You need to tell Leah why the cloaking spell's not working."

"If you were listening, Hayley, I did."


	36. All Quiet on the Western Front

_Three days later and 2,775 miles away_

"Gate 23 will be opening in approximately ten minutes. If you just take a seat we will call passengers up by rows when we're ready for boarding."

Elijah nodded at the attendant and retreated from the check-in counter. He slipped his ticket back into the counterfeit passport and tucked both documents into his jacket pocket.

He glanced around the waiting room for a vacant seat.

The freshly forged passport smelled particularly of vinyl though in all other ways it was a perfect imitation. He had received it and the four others just yesterday from one of Niklaus' shady associates in an even shadier part of Los Angeles. He would have liked to have had them sooner, in order to leave the country sooner, but apparently you cannot rush perfection.

So only now, nearly a month after leaving his family, was Elijah at last prepared to embark on his mission to deceive Mikael. In all that time his father had not made an appearance; every time he called his brother, Niklaus would confirm that things were quiet at his end of the country.

Things were quiet here as well.

Too quiet.

It deeply concerned Elijah that his father, for all intents and purposes, had fallen off the grid. He worried Mikael was planning some malfeasance - if he could only direct the brunt of that violence away from the others.

The passports were part of the ploy - just like the multiple plane tickets Elijah had purchased for each member of his family. It was all part of an attempt to create a paper trail so obvious that any spies in the employment of Mikael would be sure to spot it and report back.

If his father could use his blood to track him, Elijah was sure he was being watched. Even now his eyes swept the waiting area before falling again on the departures board.

He would be glad to move on from California. He had done things here he was far from proud about - but all for the sake of the plan and all in the interests of his family.

In order to draw Mikael's attention to him, for the last four weeks Elijah had been making as much noise as possible.

The best way to create a distraction was to make a scene; within two weeks of his arrival in Los Angeles every national paper was running stories on a string of mysterious murders in the area. It was a necessary hypocrisy; Elijah recalled scolding Niklaus and Kol over the centuries, reproaching their reckless feeding habits and reminding them pointedly that piles of bodies served as a beacon for their father.

And to think that he had judged Leah for the very crime he was now committing.

Elijah sighed as he sank into a seat to wait for the boarding announcement. He did not want to start thinking about Leah, especially in these last ten minutes, especially when the countdown on the board reminded him there was still time to turn around and fix what was broken between them.

Months and years and decades he might be gone, before Mikael was dead, before he could return. Could he truly condemn himself to spend that eternity without her?

The possibility had been strongest in those first few days after Colorado. She didn't want to stay; he simply couldn't - it had felt like the right thing to do to separate. It had been easier to leave her in the urgency of the moment, easy to cloak his cowardice in a familiar sense of duty.

His letter had confessed as much.

And since Hayley had given it to her, since Leah had read it, he knew she had believed him.

Since she had chosen to remain with his brother, he assumed she had forgiven him.

He hoped that she would wait for him.

And yet every time he called Niklaus, Elijah couldn't find the courage to ask to hear Leah's voice.

It terrified him that he might be wrong: that she had chosen to stay - but not for him.

The fear was as constant as her presence in his thoughts. Sometimes he thought he heard her laughter in the crowd; some other red hair and he thought he saw her face. The California sun recalled her smile; the Pacific was not as blue as her eyes.

No ghost could haunt him half as much as she who held his heart three thousand miles away.

_What am I doing? _

_What have I done?_

Elijah hoped there was no time to answer these questions but when looked down at his watch he realized only a minute had passed. The powers that be in the universe was stopping time and forcing him to reflect on his mistakes.

He tried to think about something else, about facts, and strategy and logistics, about how he would continue to deceive Mikael once he landed in Melbourne. The ruse would be precarious; the consequences, if discovered, apocalyptic.

He could never have brought Leah with him - it was too dangerous. His mind kept replaying what his brother had said: her heart in Mikael's hand and then what would his unspoken promises be worth?

_I didn't even tell her I love her. I didn't even tell her goodbye._

_What the hell had he been thinking?_

The music in the waiting room cut out for the announcement.

"Attention passengers. There is a slight delay with the boarding of Flight 127. We expect a wait time of only ten or so minutes. Please expect another announcement when the gate is open. Your patience is appreciated."

_How very expected_, Elijah frowned. He was not looking forward to this extra time with himself.

Elijah hated when planes were delayed or trains ran off schedule. He hated having to sit in this dim and dingy room surrounded by such a motley assortment of characters he could have mistaken the airport for a zoo. He hated having to negotiate with his brother's crooked contacts and to be quite honest he hated this entire plan because above all else Elijah Mikaelson hated having this same debate with himself at every hour of every day.

_Was he making a mistake leaving Leah with his brother? _

He was momentarily saved from his thoughts.

Elijah tucked his bag further under his chair as another passenger made his way up the narrow aisle toward the attendant's counter. It was a man, hand clasped in the hand of the woman by his side.

"Morning," the man opened, "we just got through security and we wanted to know if you've started boarding yet?"

"We're on our honeymoon," the women beamed, "and they upgraded us to first class!"

"Congratulations," the attendant smiled, "and you've just made it. In fact, we'll be calling up all passengers soon, listen to the PA for the announcement. We would be delighted to offer you a complimentary glass of champagne once we have you on board."

The women squealed in excitement before gushing her appreciation. She squeezed her new husband's hand and the ring shown brightly on her finger as the couple took a seat across from him.

Elijah lowered his eyes thoughtfully as they passed by again. He recognized a sign when he saw it.

He pulled out his passport again and this time brought out another as well.

Opening the red folder, Elijah smiled at the name the forger had chosen for Leah's Russian surname – a _Mikhailov_ indeed. In all but name Leah was already a Mikaelson. He had left her in his brother's protection because he trusted that somewhere deep down Niklaus believed this too; he would protect her as he would protect his own daughter.

Leah was so stubborn anyway, she would never have taken his last name.

_Why was he even thinking about this now?_

He looked up at the couple across the aisle.

Oh.

As in: Oh, boy, had he fucked this up with Leah.

_Leah._

An untamable force of nature – a perfect storm that overwhelmed your senses until you begged for mercy. She was the warm sand he had wash up upon, the lightning that struck him down, that oasis he had stumbled upon after a thousand years in the desert.

But she was also simply a girl, one with a heart as breakable as it was resilient.

And there is only so much a heart can take.

Elijah felt the guilt in his chest tighten into a Gordian knot.

Since August a distance had been growing between him and Leah, one that he did not wish to acknowledge even now, but he was not so deep in his denial that he did not realize that the fault lines ran back to him. As much as he had allowed himself to grow impatient with her, frustrated with her, even angry with her, it was undeniably his actions which had bent the bough until it broke.

So Leah had every right to be upset with him, to push him away, to want nothing to do with him. If anything, she was now enjoying herself free from his smothering affections. Maybe she would even come to realize she liked it better that way - away from him. That would certainly make this long separation easier to endure.

Ah, there he was again, repeating old excuses. They didn't sound as convincing the hundredth time around.

Elijah stared up at the board behind the attendant's desk wondering just when they were going to open the damn gate. His eyes returned to the couple from before. They were enthusiastically sifting through one of the travel magazines from the check-in desk, no doubt planning what sights they would see on their honeymoon.

He had never been to Australia with Leah. They hadn't made it out that far east. They had plans to do India, Singapore, and Bali this summer.

But plans were not promises, he reminded himself ruefully - plans change.

Elijah returned Leah's passport to his pocket reminding himself that this was one plan that couldn't change.

The announcement crackled on and the music cut out again.

"Passengers for Flight 127 from Los Angeles to Melbourne, please have out your passes. We will be boarding momentarily."

_Finally_, Elijah thought as he slipped a hand into his breast pocket to retrieve his boarding pass.

He remained seated, watching the couple across from him take photos of themselves with their phones. _How lucky they were,_ he reflected with a touch of bitterness. The plane could probably go down and they would still be fawning over each other.

It was easy for them, this unconditional love - they were both human. What was there that could ever threaten their devotion to each other?

Was he a thousand years old vampire?

Was she a bloodthirsty hybrid?

Was there a resurrected madman intent on putting a stake through their hearts?

No - and that's why love came easy to mortals; by the time this couple across from him woke up and realized just how wrong they were for each other they'd both be dead anyway.

That was the problem with falling in love with another immortal: a lot can happen between now and forever and break ups were an ugly business.

Perhaps Niklaus had been right. Perhaps five years was all fate would allow Leah to be his.

He was making excuses again. If he didn't get on the plane soon Elijah worried he would make up an excuse not to.

He exhaled deeply, unclenching his fist; his boarding pass lay mangled in his hand.

_Was he making a mistake leaving Leah with his brother?_

Yes - but he couldn't go back now. Her life - everyone's lives - depended on him acting as a diversion, on him getting on this plane.

His head remained inflexible. His heart, however, reminded him that both plans and planes can change.

Elijah tried to ignore his heart. He did not need it right now and it had always been his greatest weakness anyway.

Yet trying to ignore it only make it beat louder. The Original suddenly felt very anxious, unsure, a wave of doubt that made his brow sweat and his hand shake.

Elijah stood abruptly, checking the time on the departures board again. Any second they would be opening the gate and he would walk through the jet bridge, get on that plane, take his seat and be on his way – there would be no more doubt, no more debates, no last chance to turn around and go back for her.

He would see this plan through to the end, because that was the right thing to do.

Leaving Leah had been the right thing to do.

Except that one wasn't an excuse - it was simply a lie.

"Now boarding 6:25 Flight 127 to Melbourne. First and Business class ticket holders, please make your way up front for boarding."

That was him; this was it. It was time to get on that plane and not a second too soon.

_Was he making a mistake leaving Leah with his brother?_

Yes, yes, _God yes_ \- but it was too late to turn around now.

"Boarding pass, sir?"

The attendant held an electronic scanner in one hand, the other outstretched and waiting.

Elijah awkwardly fumbled with the crumbled ticket, attempting to smooth it out before handing it over.

Just as the woman scanned it another announcement rang out overhead.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have just received word from the pilot that there appears to be an issue with one of our engines which requires re-inspection. We ask for your patience as we put your safety first. At this time we are closing the gate. We apologize for the delay."

The PA clicked out. The entire waiting area erupted into groans.

Elijah, however, felt only relief.

He recognized a sign when he saw it.

The attendant handed his ticket back with a polite smile.

"Sorry about this, sir. Please hold onto your boarding pass and we will scan it again when we call you back up."

Again he nodded, retreating from the counter. This time, however, he did not return to his seat.

Elijah walked away from the gate, tearing his boarding pass in two with both hands as he went. With long, confident strides he began to retrace his steps through the airport.

This was, after all, the wrong terminal for domestic flights.

Overhead the departures board had refreshed. Flight 127 was now marked as _cancelled_.

A sign indeed, for it was when he looked up that Elijah ran into the last person he ever expected to see.


	37. Les Revenants Part I

**The hiatus is over! I'm back, dear readers, and I'm not the only one... **

Unsurprisingly, it was entirely his fault.

Elijah was flustered to say the least. What was happening to him? He was never so graceless. Since when did he not realize what was standing right in front of him?

The truth was he hadn't been looking where he was going. He'd all but walked straight into the poor man, knocking a handful of belongings to the ground and causing a nice little scene in the middle of the terminal.

It was really tremendously frustrating.

Wasting no time, he didn't even bother to look up before sinking to one knee to gather up the scattered items. Ending up with a passport that was not one of his, he scanned the emblem on the cover and swiftly rose to his feet to return it, ready to apologize to the man in his native language.

But it wasn't French that came out; it wasn't English, or anything at all. Elijah was too shocked to form any words at all.

The man, on the other hand, was simply rolling in laughter.

"_Mon bon ami_, _quelle surprise_!"

Indeed.

Elijah was in fact so utterly flummoxed he'd lost the ability to form coherent thoughts.

Genuine, genteel, and disarmingly handsome, it was certainly hard enough under normal circumstances to come to terms with Philippe's existence. Elijah's mind reeled with every possibility, trying to rationalize the truth right in front of him.

Philippe was alive.

"This isn't possible."

It came out on a whisper. He was talking to himself – a sure sign of insanity, second only to the fact that he was surely seeing things.

The lack of sleep was getting to him and it was far too early for mysterious, unexplained resurrections. He decided to start slowly, working through the facts.

"Philippe."

"That's me."

"You're dead."

"You'd think."

"Then how?"

"Long story."

"I see…" Elijah blinked, not seeing it at all. He felt like he was at the center of some complex, elaborate joke and he felt particularly slow for missing the punch line.

Philippe took pity on him.

"I'll explain it all if you have the time. Are you boarding soon? I assume you don't always run through airports like a madman."

His smile didn't quite reach his eyes; it was clear that both men were tired in ways that had nothing to do with sleep. Philippe did however manage to elicit a flicker of amusement from Elijah, who pulled him in for a brotherly embrace.

"I shall always have time for you, my good man. It is wonderful to see you again."

"You can trust me to always be here to watch you make a fool of yourself."

"Yes, that was not my finest moment. Perhaps let's agree to never speak of it again."

"Done," Philippe laughed, accepting back his passport with a thankful nod. "Now what have I missed?"

The mood instantly shifted between them. Despite the happy reunion and relief knowing he was alive, Elijah couldn't look at his sister's husband without feeling the loss of her presence and remembering everything that had happened in the wake of her disappearance.

"I don't know where to begin," he confessed. "Niklaus against Rebekah, and then Leah… until Mikael…and then Hope –"

"Peace," Philippe stopped him gently, "Recall I have not actually been dead this whole time."

"So you already know?" Elijah realized, freshly confused. "How?"

"Now that is a very long story. Walk me back to my gate and I will find the time to tell it."

Taking a second to reposition his bag over his shoulder, Elijah fell in line.

"You are waiting on a flight as well?"

"What else am I doing in an airport?" Philippe laughed. "Do you think I've been living here for weeks? If I were hiding out it would certainly not be here, Elijah. Have you been through security? Barbarians."

"Then where have you been all these weeks?"

"Undercover you could say, helping the war effort. It was easier to move around if Mikael at least thought I was dead. I am sorry, however, that you had to think so. That was never my intention. Unfortunately things got quite a bit hectic after the cabin fire and I simply wasn't able to get a message to you or Rebekah."

"Rebekah… Philippe, I'm sorry she is not here."

"She is safe, I am sure."

"I wish I shared your optimism. I don't even know where she is. Rebekah was grieving for you and furious at Niklaus but the fault is mine; I should not have let her slip away so easily."

"Why are you apologizing," Philippe touched his shoulder gently. "Do you also apologize to the shore when the tide rolls out to the sea? There are some things that cannot be dictated except by the nature of their being; perhaps this is something you should remind your brother of as well."

"You are likely right, although my brother has a particularly strong nature of his own."

"Oh, yes, I know. That final day at the cabin I approached Klaus; it was after you had left to find Leah and we were packing up the cars to move out. I wanted him to leave immediately and not wait until morning."

"Your specific concern?"

"Imagine that when a spell is performed there are, for lack of a better word, waves of energy – invisible of course – but there in the air flowing from the caster to the catalyst, as we call them. Now this catalyst can be a person or an object or other waves of energy which combine and react to produce, well, magic."

Elijah felt that he had walked out of the airport and into a classroom. He didn't have time for a lesson and gave Philippe a look that demanded a point.

"Right. Anyway, all this is to say that spells aren't foolproof – they can be reflected, deflected, interrupted and otherwise disrupted. If you remember, that day something was disrupting my locator spells. The issue, I realized later, was some sort of interference caused by an unknown catalyst."

"You mean some other magic than your own."

"Some _stronger_ magic than my own."

"And you brought your concerns to Niklaus?"

"Immediately. If the interference was negating my spells than who could say if the other magic in the area wasn't similarly compromised."

Elijah fell back in disbelief.

"Compromised? Philippe, are you saying the cloaking spell _failed_ that night?"

"That was the possibility I introduced to your brother."

"And what exactly did Niklaus say in return?"

"He thanked me for my 'astute observation' but made it quite clear we would wait until you returned with Leah before leaving. I am not embarrassed to say I gave your brother some push back on this and we argued, but then about ten minutes later the living room was on fire and none of it mattered anymore."

Philippe's tone had gone so flat it was impossible for Elijah not to feel guilty that he hadn't been there in those hours before Mikael had attacked. His thoughts then turned to where he had been, and what Leah had been up to, but he immediately stopped himself from wandering down old roads again.

"And this interference," he continued, "what was it?"

"I'll tell you when I know for sure. Probably something that followed us from New Orleans. Those witches were clever enough to work a spell across both distance and time. Unfortunately it's just impossible to know the full consequences of the ritual they performed on Hope's birthday."

"I had hoped our troubles with the Quarter witches ended with their death."

"_Au contraire, _my good friend. Death rarely brings an end to anything."

It had an oddly pointed conclusion and Elijah turned intently toward Philippe just as he gestured up ahead.

"I hope you can share a short detour. Old habits die hard and this is the first decent place I've seen in an hour."

He motioned them toward one of the small coffee shops that dotted this part of the airport. Elijah declined anything for himself with a slight shake of the head, both hands settling deep in his pockets as he looked on from the entrance.

It was when Philippe gestured to make his order that he saw it on his hand - the blue shine of a stone that could only mean one thing...

Elijah rolled his shoulders forward, instantly on guard; he had never thought to consider that his friend might be a foe. Joining Philippe at the counter, he raised a questioning brow.

"I was just admiring your new ring," he opened tightly.

"You noticed," Philippe said with a hint of regret. "I hope you don't think I was trying to deceive you. I didn't want to spoil our happy reunion with the details of my transition."

He smiled to the barista as she passed over his coffee, dropping a hearty handful of change in the tip jar. For some reason this small gesture made Elijah feel even worse.

He was trying to keep the disappointment off his face. What a waste of talent - of life, but Philippe was doing his best to pretend that nothing had changed though everything had.

Leah had been the same: she never wanted to talk about becoming a vampire either.

"Who turned you, Philippe? You understand why I need to ask."

"You need to be sure I'm not under your father's compulsion, of course I understand. Your brother did warn me when he gave me his blood that I would lose my immunity."

"_Niklaus _turned you?"

Elijah sounded horrified but Philippe continued to stir the milk into his drink with a smile.

"It's not quite that straightforward. When the cabin went up in flames and I realized we had lost our chance to escape, there was really only one way to ensure Rebekah's safety – Hope's safety. But going up against your father, exhausted and with unreliable magic, I knew going in that I might not be coming out."

"And Rebekah let you take such a risk?"

"I didn't tell her my plan. She would never have let me go through with it. I did not, however, expect such resistance from Klaus. He wouldn't hear it, too afraid I believe that your sister would never forgive him if something happened to me. So we argued some more and eventually came to compromise."

"A plan B," Elijah said softly, watching Philippe take his first sip.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, B for blood. I had Klaus' in my system when Mikael killed me. So if anyone knew I wasn't dead it was him…well, not dead-dead."

Elijah stood silent for a moment, making a mental note to unbraid his brother later.

"Philippe... I am so sorry."

"There you go again, apologizing. My dear friend, you cannot control everything - contrary to your beliefs. Could you pass the sugar?"

Elijah smiled supportively as he handed over the silver container; it was hard to remain saddened by Philippe's transition when he was so adamantly refusing to be sad about it himself.

"If anything, Rebekah will be delighted to have earned herself a few more centuries of martial bliss."

"She will indeed!" Philippe chuckled, a twinkle back in his eye. He set his coffee back on the counter, pulling himself onto a stool. "Can I tell you a secret, Elijah? She's wanted me to turn since our honeymoon. Of course I kept putting off giving her any sort of answer but I guess you can't love a Mikaelson without it changing you fundamentally."

Elijah's eyes wandered back out into the terminal as Philippe's words immediately brought his thoughts back to Leah. Reminded of the long distance between them that seemed to grow by the minute, he suddenly felt inexplicably exhausted.

Philippe easily read his emotions and set down his cup sympathetically.

"You must be eager to get back to New York."

"In fact...how did you know?"**  
**

"I simply assumed you're on your way to see the lovely Leah. In my experience, there aren't many reasons people run madly through airports but love is certainly one of them."

Elijah remained quiet, his expression obviously tense.

"Did I say something?" Philippe asked apologetically.

"No, this is all Niklaus. Clearly my brother values his secrets above all else."

"Well, if it's any assurance I don't think there's anyplace safer for Leah to be. Who do you think told your brother to take her to New York? I have friends in the city who can help us. Even though I was a vampire they took me in after my transition and made me this daylight ring."

Elijah watched him drum his fingers up the side of his cup, wondering why his brother had never mentioned any of this during their phone conversations.

Then again, he shouldn't be surprised.

"These friends of yours, Philippe? Witches?"

"Some of the best. They've come from all around the world to study with the Canal Street coven. I was a fellow there myself some years back. You can trust them and you will need their help, Elijah. The White Oak stake can only do so much; this is another thing your brother and I argued about."

"I am quite impressed how well you seem to be able to hold yourself against him. I'm afraid I've lost all ability to make Niklaus see any sort of reason."

"Now I didn't say I was successful: you know how attached Klaus is to that stake. The thing is Mikael is more magic than man at this point. He's nothing more than a golem, a handful of dust animated by the witches of New Orleans. There's a slim possibility the stake won't be enough."

"And Niklaus knows this already?"

"I've kept him updated on what I'm been learning in my travels. I'm surprised he hasn't shared any of it with you."

"I am not. Niklaus doesn't quite trust me anymore."

"_Mais non_, never; he looks up to you greatly. You have to remember that people have many reasons for keeping secrets. Perhaps your brother is simply trying to protect you."

A phone sounded loudly before Elijah could voice his doubt.

"Speak of the devil," Philippe swiped his screen. "This is probably him now."

As he checked the new message Elijah looked on with a growing sense of unease. He felt there was something Philippe wasn't telling him, but then again he knew there were things he wasn't telling Philippe.

What most concerned him, however, was the complete possibility that there were several things Niklaus wasn't telling either of them.

"_Zut_," Philippe scowled, looking down at his phone. "I'm in trouble now."

"Is it Niklaus?"

"I wish. Your brother I can handle. It appears my search party, on the other hand, is officially wondering where I am."

"Your search party?"

Sliding off his stool, Philippe got to his feet with a widening grin.

"Do me a favor, Elijah - be my alibi when your sister arrives."


	38. Les Revenants Part II

Rebekah would never understand why time was such a difficult concept for Philippe. It must be a European thing. Her husband could have picked the beans and made the coffee himself in the time he'd been gone. Didn't he know they had a flight to catch…eventually?

Where the bloody hell was he?

Dragging her hands off her hips she checked her phone again. His text had said 'across from Gate 12' which was about as vague as his follow-up message: _and I have a surprise for you_.

Maybe he had finally learned to tell time.

She took off down the walkway once again, rolling her eyes and chiding herself for overreacting. Philippe was clearly fine, she needed to stop worrying he was going to blink off the face of the earth any second. Klaus was a thousand miles away and she was never going to let him come anywhere near her husband again.

Rebekah sighed in relief when finally saw it, the stupid peasant pastry-shop across from Gate 12. Bloody brilliant - and there was Philippe drowning his coffee in milk and chatting it up with some stranger in a suit.

She threw her hair over her shoulder in a huff as she glided through the entrance.

"Of course I find you holed away in some hovel, Philippe. What is it with you and – _Elijah_?"

He spun around at the sound of her voice, the most genuine smile on his face in weeks.

"Rebekah."

He chuckled her name as she threw her arms around him.

There were tears on Rebekah's lashes that she didn't try to hide. Resting his head atop the crown of her curls, her brother held her close. His embrace was tight, protective - possessive - but she couldn't care to mind after so many weeks of uncertainty.

It was not enough to say that either sibling had missed the other; they might have been in an airport but this moment felt like home.

"It's good to see you again, Elijah."

"Am I supposed to be your surprise because you're certainly mine," he smiled.

"We've been set up, isn't it obvious? This has Philippe written all over it. He thinks he's hilarious."

"Just a fan of happy endings," Philippe toasted with his coffee cup.

Elijah nodded appreciatively toward him and Rebekah watched them with a delirious smile on her face.

"I can't believe the three of us are all together again," she sighed happily.

"Perhaps our luck is turning around," Elijah let himself hope.

"Hmpf, _luck_," she scoffed, growing suddenly serious. "There was nothing lucky about what happened to Philippe. That was all Klaus, and since the very moment Philippe turned up alive on my doorstep I vowed never to trust our brother again."

"Your doorstep?" Elijah questioned her sternly. "All this time I worried...and you were simply _home?"_

"Of course not," she snapped, hurt by his suggestion, "but I couldn't well just sit around in that stupid motel if there was even the slightest possibility Philippe was still alive. When I went back to the cabin and couldn't find any signs of him, that's when I flew back to Paris, but only to convince his coven to help me try to find him."**  
**

"So you left us at that motel on a _hunch_."

"I _left _to look for my husband."

"You abandoned your family. You just took off in the middle of the night, told no one..."

"Philippe is our family, Elijah, you can't have possibly forgotten that."

"No, I have not...but perhaps I am simply tired of dealing with the ramifications of your departure."

"Oh please," she crossed her arms angrily. "The world didn't end because I left."

"No, in fact, it ended when our father found us and our niece died."

Rebekah's face crumbled.

"You don't think I know about Hope?" she hissed at him in tears. "About what happened after I left that motel? That wasn't my fault! If Klaus had just told us Philippe was alive none of that would have happened!"

Elijah immediately bit his tongue before both feet ended up in his mouth. He was barely able to believe what he'd just said. What was happening to him? He was never so thoughtless. Since when did he blame his own sister for such a terrible tragedy?

He slowly sat back on a stool, overcome by a nauseating sense of déjà vu. Clearly he hadn't learned a thing since this very same conversation with Leah.

"You're right," he whispered tiredly, unable to even look at her. "My dear Rebekah, forgive me, I don't know what's come over me."

"I'll tell you what's wrong with you - you're a hypocrite, Elijah. How dare you chastise me for leaving to search for my husband when you've made a career of running after Leah when your family needs you most."

"Rebekah, _darling_," Philippe swooped in. "We've all had early mornings, let's remember everyone is tense and tired - we're in an airport after all. Here, let me order you something... a nice, calming cup of tea perhaps?"

"Nonsense," she muttered, waving him off. "If I wanted a tasteless cup of water I'd simply ask for one. Elijah, on the other hand, could probably use a pick me up – he looks absolutely dreadful. Tell me, brother, did you sleep in that suit?"

It was such a perfect insult and Rebekah knew it. It was also true – her brother looked wretched; he'd either forgotten how to shave or he was mourning for something.

"I'll be right back," Philippe bowed out, wisely deciding to give the siblings some time. He gave Rebekah a quick peck on the cheek before leaving her alone with her brother.

She hovered over him, her expression softened, her anger replaced with concern.

"Are you alright, Elijah? Despite your recent tactlessness you know I hate to see you suffer."

"I manage nonetheless," he smiled weakly.

"Which is your way of saying your life is in pieces. Let me guess - Leah."

"That obvious?"

"It was impossible not to notice something was going on after that week in the cabin. I could offer you my opinion on what I saw but I doubt you want my advice. Leah certainly didn't."

Elijah's eyes narrowed as his temper swelled again.

"Please tell me you didn't try to _talk _to her, Rebekah."

"What? We were stuck in a motel room, there wasn't much else to do."

"I'm sure," he leveled harshly. "And what exactly did you say to Leah, if I may?"

"Well...you must remember I was rather distraught…and when you're upset things come out that you don't necessarily mean…"

"Rebekah…_what did you say?"_

"I may have _implied_ that you would choose our brother over her…I mean, leave her for our brother…no, that still sounds weird…"

"Do you find this amusing? Undermining my relationships? Rebekah, you had _no right_ to inflict your opinions on Leah."

"I don't see what the big deal is. I was only speaking the truth. It will happen, Elijah. A thousand years says so. Look, if you want I can talk to her again –"

"You've done enough," he cut her off rudely.

"Oh, typical! Our brother turns my husband into a _vampire_ and nothing, but I say one thing about your darling precious Leah and you call down the bloody cavalry in her defense!"

"Niklaus had Philippe's consent. What has happened is unfortunate but hardly exploitation."

"Unbelievable – you're taking his side!"

"There are no sides in this, sister. We simply do what we have to do."

"Then I'll do what I have to do and protect Philippe. I've found him, now I'm sending him home – I won't let Klaus get him killed again. If you were smart, Elijah, you'd do the same with Leah."

"Leah has been given the choice to return home. She chose to stay."

"_Of course_ she did – she doesn't know any better."

"I do not wish to argue with you, Rebekah. I am tired and have a long journey ahead of me."

"Yes, have fun in Australia running circles around our father. I can't believe you let Nik talk you into this stupid plan. Don't you think if it was working we'd know where Mikael was by now?"

"It's worked so far. It's given Niklaus the time to cloak the others successfully."

"You mean the time to work his dastardly deeds in secret. You idiot, haven't you yet realized Klaus is using Leah to manipulate you into this ridiculous ruse?"

"He's protecting her."

"Odd…since when has our brother voluntarily offered to protect any of our lovers in the past? Oh, that's right – he hasn't. He's simply killed them. Shall I list them? Where shall I start? Emil, Celeste -"

"Rebekah, that is _enough."  
_

"No use talking to a brick wall anyway."

Philippe had been keeping an eye on the conversation from across the shop and realized it was past time to step in. He appeared at Rebekah's side completely fearless and ready to play mediator between the warring siblings.

"Is everything alright... or should I pretend to fetch coffee again?"

"Philippe," Elijah suddenly stood, "when you were in New York did you see Leah?"

"Actually... no," he admitted slowly, thrown by the non sequitur, "but Klaus assured me that -"

All Elijah needed was to hear his brother's name. He took off from his stool, pulling out his phone. As he sped from the shop, panicked suspicion drove him to recall every single conversation he'd had with his brother each day for the last four weeks.

_"__Yes, what?" Niklaus would grumble. "I'm busy. You should be too."_

_"__How is she today?" _

_"__I'm lovely by the way, thanks for asking."_

_"__Leah, Niklaus. How is she?"_

_"__Fine. Still - like yesterday and the day before – oh, and this morning too, how could I forget? You can see why I don't answer your calls anymore."_

_"__Is she…happy?"_

_"__What kind of inane question is that?"_

_"__Niklaus…"_

_"__Well, how the bloody hell am I supposed to know? We certainly don't spend our evenings chatting over tea and pouring our bleeding hearts all over the pastries. Here's a novel idea, brother – you could simply ask her yourself."_

But that's when he would get quiet and change the subject, ask about Hope or simply make up some excuse and say he had to go. Through no fault but his own, it had been twenty-nine days, eleven hours and fifty-four seconds since Elijah had last heard Leah's voice.

He had never once considered that she might not be alive.

He immediately pressed _send. _The phone automatically redialed._  
_

It only rang once before Klaus picked up.

"Again, Elijah? I didn't realize you could make calls from 30,000 feet."

"Put Leah on."

"Now?"

"I won't ask again."

"Ah, don't tell me... you came down with a case of cold feet and just _happened_ to miss your flight."

"Either you put Leah on right now or you can expect me in New York tonight."

There was a moment of silence before Klaus' nervous chuckle echoed down the line.

"Now, now, brother, let's be reasonable. We can't have weeks of careful planning down the drain because you have separation anxiety."

"Niklaus - _put her on the phone."_

"Can't this wait? I'm assuming she's busy right now."

"Then wherever she is, take the phone in your hand, walk it over to her, and tell her I want to speak with her."

"Now that is a problem, isn't it? I don't actually know where she is."

_"__What have you done to her?"_

"Ouch, brother. I'm wounded. You're the one going back on your deal and yet you accuse me of treachery? Leah is fine, just out with Hope, safely accompanied by Hayley."

Elijah closed his eyes and sighed, lowering the phone in relief.

"All sorted?" Klaus continued sprightly, "then if we're done here I suggest you be on that next flight to Australia. It you want to ensure that Leah remains safe you must focus and do what needs to be done. Can you do that for me... or are we going to have a problem?"

Clutching the phone in his hand, Elijah lifted it slowly back to his ear.

"There's no problem," he answered definitely. "Expect my call when I reach my destination."


	39. His Girl Friday

Pulling up the strap of her dress, Leah let out a deep, dissatisfied sigh.

"That bad?" he cringed, eyeing her carefully.

"It's just not doing it for me. Not tonight."

"Another round then? If you're up for it, that is."

"Do I look like an amateur, Darren? Just pour me another drink."

He gave her a flirty smile and got right to work. Tattoos snaked up his arm as he cleaned out a fresh glass, glancing down the bar to check on the other patrons.

Leah pushed away her empty shot glass, cursing her hybrid tolerance. This was the third night in a row she'd been up here at the hotel bar trying to have a fun evening.

It was easier said than done.

Darren the bartender had at least been trying his best to get her drunk. It was also nice that random guys kept sending drinks her way. However, not one of these suits had yet mustered the courage to approach her. Either she made an intimating sight in her little black dress or else Hope was simply scaring them all away.

Her friend sat next to her at the counter, nursing a margarita and wearing a floral dress with a permanent scowl.

"Leah, you couldn't have suggested _anything_ else to do tonight?"

"Hope, for the last time, there's _nothing else to do. _If you recall we're still not allowed to leave the hotel. You should be more grateful your dad let us come up here at all."

"Okay, but why do we have to sit up at the bar?"

"Because up here is where all the young people are - chatting and drinking and having a good time. You should give it a try."

Hope stared down into her drink, giving her celery a little twirl.

"This is not my idea of a good time," she grumbled.

"Drink more and it will be."

It had become Leah's new motto. When Darren returned with her fifth shot of the night she all but moaned in relief.

Hope didn't miss the look her best friend earned herself from the bartender. As he walked off again she leaned in closer.

"Leah, don't you think your friend over there's starting to get a little...goatish?"

"I'm assuming that doesn't mean he has horns..."

"No, I just mean he's been making eyes at you all night."

"He's harmless - and giving us free drinks. Count your blessings; here's one more."

Picking up her tiny glass of vodka, she reached over and promptly dumped it into Hope's margarita.

"Leah, that's gross!"

"Perfect. Let's get you another then. Darren!"

As they waited for him to finish up with another patron, Leah pulled the drink menu between them.

"I'm thinking let's explore the rye liquors next."

"Or we can slow down before Darien over there starts to get suspicious why you're still conscious."

"His name is _Darren._..and it's Friday, Hope. TGIF."

"What does that mean?"

"That's right, I keep forgetting how all things fun confuse you. Guess that means I should order for you then."

She gave Darren her best smile as he pulled up in front of them.

"So what can I get you ladies?"

"She'll have another margarita," she ordered. "I'll have the same - just hold everything but the tequila."

"Oh_ no_," Hope objected loudly. "Leah, seriously, if you start dancing on the tables I'm gonna have to cut you off."

"I pretty sure that's my line," the bartender laughed, "but if your friend here decides she wants to put on a little show for me I can't say I'll complain."

Hope nearly gagged on her celery. Who did this guy think he was? It was utterly baffling why such a superlative hotel had hired such a common cad.

She was contemplating compelling the bartender to bugger off for good when he returned with Leah's tequila.

"Here you go, doll face. I can get your friend a shot too if she feels like table-dancing as well."

"Ha, yeah right. The only bar Hope's danced at is the ballet bar."

"And what about you? With that body you must have been a prima donna."

"You mean prima _ballerina_," Hope glared at him. "Prima donnas _sing."_

Leah frowned at her friend before turning more gently back to Darren.

"I did dance," she said, grabbing her drink. "In high school. Now only when I'm not in public."

She tossed back her head, finishing her tequila and slamming the glass on the counter.

"Sounds like you have a lucky boyfriend then," Darren fished, passing a cloth over the bar top.

"Ha," she laughed dryly, "What boyfriend?"

"So then you wouldn't mind if I ask how long you're staying in New York?"

"I mind," Hope butted in, "and she's staying with _me._"

"Hope…" Leah touched her arm, "I love you but you need to lighten the hell up."

"Nah, she's good," he shrugged with a smile. "I admire the spunk. It's hard to say no to a feisty girl."

Hope did not like the look that Darren and Leah shared.

"You know what," he leaned back excitedly, "let me make you something of my own. There's nothing fun in that menu."

"I figured," Leah beamed. "Okay, like what?"

"What are you in the mood for?"

"How about... a little less Manhattan and a lot more dirty Jersey."

"You've got it, Red. I've got the _perfect_ drink for you."

With expert hands Darren pulled down a shooter and got to work mixing Bailey's and almond liqueur. Topping it with a generous amount of whipped cream, he slid the shot glass in front of Leah.

"Ah," he added before she could grab it. "You wanted fun, so here's the fun part. What I made you's called a Blow Job. So there's a catch - you can't use your hands."

Hope knew exactly what that mischievous glint in her friend's eye meant.

"Oh, no, don't," she begged. It was a useless plea; Leah was already tying her hair up and off her face. She then joined her hands behind her back, leaning over the shooter and looking up expectantly.

"Ready?"

Darren just laughed as Leah bought her head down and wrapped her mouth around the rim of the shot glass. Throwing her head back, she brought the glass up with her. One hand caught the shooter as it slipped out of her mouth while the other scooped up the cream that had never made it down her throat.

Hope rolled her eyes hard.

"Really, Leah? Honestly, it's all over your face."

"I'll get that," Darren chuckled, reaching out and wiping the cream from Leah's lip. She kept her eyes on his as he did, finally looking away in a fit of laughter as she licked the rest of it off and reached for a napkin.

"Wow, that was awesome. Totally reminds me of college."

"Where'd you go to school?" he chuckled, removing her empty glass.

"New Orleans."

"Nice. Big party town."

"We both went to the same college," she gestured beside her.

"Except I don't quite remember the drinks being so _vulgar_," Hope slated.

"Oh, that's nothing," Darren lit up. "That's the _tame_ version of a Blow Job."

Leah was immediately intrigued.

"Show me now."

Darren slapped his hands together, rubbing them excitedly as he prepared to get to work. Pulling down a shooter, he mixed another round, same as before. However this time he set the finished cocktail aside. Leah watched him curiously as he came out from behind the bar and stood beside her stool.

Pushing his sleeves over his muscled arms, his hands hovered on either side of her hips.

"Trust me," he winked. "You're gonna like it."

Grasping her by the middle, Darren hoisted her up and then lifted her legs onto the counter. Hope was horrified as Leah settled on her back on top of the bar. Men in ties and women in pearls had paused their conversations to watch; all eyes were on Leah and the crowd clearly loved her.

And it only got worse when Darren pulled himself onto the bar as well. Holding the shooter in one hand, he positioned himself over Leah, his knees on either side on her hips the only part of him touching her body.

Leah's hair bloomed out across the counter as she looked up.

"Okay - what next?"

"Leave it to me," he smirked, scooping his free hand under the back of her head and lifting it slightly from the bar. "Just open that mouth for me, baby."

Placing the shot glass high up between his thighs, Darren rolled his hips and proceeded to pour the contents of the shooter directly into her mouth.

While Hope hid her embarrassment in her hands, the rest of the bar was enjoying the show. Whistles and cheers erupted all around them as Leah downed the suggestive cocktail and managed to swallow most of it smoothly.

The rest of the cream liqueur ran down her chin as he lowered her head back to the bar. Her laughter was infectious and he laughed along, bracing himself over her before hopping down.

"Told you you'd like it," he boasted proudly, helping Leah up.

When she swung her legs off the edge of the bar, he positioned himself between them.

"I'm a mess!" she giggled wildly, running the back of her hand across her mouth. "There's whipped cream everywhere!"

"You missed a spot," he teased, staring at her lips. "Here, let me."

Leah accepted his kiss, raising her arms around his neck to steady herself as she fell into it. The first thing she noticed was how it made her feel - it didn't. In the moment, however, she couldn't remember if that was the point of letting him kiss her.

The room had gone silent around them; a presence had joined them at the bar. Leah splayed her hands firmly against Darren's chest as she sensed its familiarity.

But it wasn't until Hope pulled at the back of her dress that she broke the kiss and dared to look.

She immediately shoved Darren off her.

"Elijah?" she sputtered. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Interrupting it seems," he said with cold detachment.

"I...I thought you were in Australia."

"Clearly."

"Wait? You know this guy?" Darren frowned.

"You could say that," Leah muttered, sliding off the counter.

"Let me guess then - the ex-boyfriend."

"Stay out of this," Hope warned him, seeing her uncle tense.

But Darren shucked her off, squaring off against the Original.

"I don't care who you are, this is my bar you've walked into so if you've got drama with the lady here you can turn around and walk right back out."

He curved his arm around Leah's waist, pulling her in possessively.

"Because in case you haven't noticed, buddy, Leah here's moved on."

Hope had less than a second to pull her best friend out of the way before Elijah had the bartender by the throat. Glasses shattered and stools went flying as he slammed him down on top of the bar.

He ignored Leah's screams, her protests, the way she grabbed at him to stop. He was no longer driven by reason, just primal, vampire violence.

When his fangs descended Klaus finally stepped in.

"That's enough, brother. You've _sufficiently_ made your point."

Digging his fingers into Elijah's shoulders, it took all his hybrid strength to tear his brother from the fool.

"Is this it, then," he fumed, "is this the _glorious_ return you'd envisioned?"

Elijah jerked out of Klaus' grasp, hardly hearing anything he said; the blood was still pounding too loudly in his ears. Ignoring his niece as she raced by him to help the bartender, he cast an angry eye around the room.

"Where's Leah?"

"Leah is the _least_ of your concerns, brother. When I told you to be on that plane I meant in_ the opposite direction. _Do you realize what you've done? Tell me, did you bring Mikael back in your carry-on or can we expect him in the morning?"

Elijah wasn't listening. He was still looking for Leah.

"I have to find her. I need to speak with her."

But as soon as he turned toward the door he found his way blocked by another furious Mikaelson.

"You are _not_ going after her."

"Hope, if you know where she is - _tell me_."

"She _doesn't_ want to talk to you, Elijah."

"Your concern has been noted but I'm here for Leah and I'm not leaving without her."

"Well it certainly wouldn't be the first time."

"_Hope_," Klaus stepped in, "Downstairs, now. Leave Leah to Elijah."

"Not for a second," she backed out of the room. "He's hurt her enough already."


	40. Atonement Part I

Leah woke up in her own bed. It was more of a surprise than it should have been.

Clutching her head, she winced as she pulled herself up against the pillow. The room was dark but at least it wasn't spinning. She was still in her dress and her hair was a mess.

She hadn't the foggiest how she'd wound up back in the suite.

She grumbled, turning toward the clock. It was 2:03am and that was about the only thing she was certain of.

Someone shifted on the far side of the room and she froze. For a second she was too scared to even look; for all she knew it could be Darren - or Elijah. It had been that kind of night and she was that kind of confused.

It also didn't help that she just didn't _remember_. Leah hadn't even realized hybrids could get blackout drunk.

Taking a deep breath, she sucked up her fear and looked.

_Thank the fucking Lord_.

It was Hope. Her best friend had passed out on top the covers like a guard dog.

Seeing Hope made some of the pieces of the night fall back in place: Elijah, Darren, Klaus - everyone staring at her and _judging_. Leah had fled, hiding herself on a fire escape at the back of the hotel high up past all sorts of No Trespassing signs, a bottle of something clear and strong half-finished at her heel.

It had probably been that fifth of vodka that did her in - that or extreme dehydration from all the crying. Even now she could only vaguely remember Hope finding her. God bless, Hope, that's all she could say.

And God damn Elijah Mikaelson.

Throwing her feet onto the floor, Leah dropped her head between her knees and breathed in deep. She needed to sober up or something because this was ridiculous. Maybe she'd actually hallucinated Elijah coming back - could she be that lucky?

Not with her history. Emotions were like playing cards - you don't want anyone to see them so you keep them close to your heart. But every time she had put her cards on the table she had only ended up losing big - and tonight was it. The last straw. She couldn't do this anymore. Elijah was about to drive her into emotional bankruptcy. She had never felt so close to wanting to turn it all off.

Her stomach lurched, maybe because it was full of alcohol or maybe because the memory of Elijah walking up as she kissed Darren still made her nauseous. There was a knot in her throat and she swallowed it down, carefully crawling out of bed so not to wake Hope. She needed some water, or a blood bag – more liquor – _something_ to wash down the memory of that terrible way he had looked at her.

The long hallway that led from her room toward the kitchenette was dark as well. Every light was off as her feet padded along the carpet; when she felt the coolness of the kitchen tile she finally flicked on the lights.

Leah headed straight for the liquor cabinet, but throwing open the door she found the entire shelf empty.

"Looking for this?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice, slamming her hand across her chest as she grabbed hold of the counter to steady herself.

"Jesus, you scared me, Elijah."

He chuckled dryly, but gave her no other response as he refilled his tumbler with bourbon.

Leah frowned - that was _her_ bourbon.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her patience evaporating as he continued to ignore her. He was bent over the glass of the coffee table, pouring super slowly like some weird tea ceremony. There were several other bottles already lined up along the edge; it seemed he'd cleared out the entire liquor cabinet and then added to the inventory.

All the bottles were perfectly lined up on the table by height – completely empty. It was not a good sign. With his shirt unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up, his jacket who knows where, Elijah Mikaelson was drunk.

_You have got to be kidding me,_ Leah mumbled, turning to shut the cabinet. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the door with a sigh. She breathed in, breathed out, then decided she didn't need this shit.

"You know what, never mind. There's a thousand other rooms in this hotel, Elijah - go find one."

"Actually, the lovely blonde at the front desk was _most_ accommodating."

"I'm sure she was," she rolled her eyes. "Maybe she can direct you back to your own suite."

"And then what, Leah?"

The aggressiveness of his question was baffling. Why was he angry at _her_?

Confused by everything from his tone to his appearance, she let the silence roll in from all corners of the room. Hayley and Hope were asleep; Klaus was still out. It was just the two of them and the soft buzz of fluorescent light.

And a million unsaid words.

"All I meant was, you startled me," she clarified softly. "I...I didn't see you there, sitting in the dark - that's all."

"Out of sight, out of mind."

"You would know."

The tension was palpable. It was quiet for a long time as they stared at each other in silence. Leah crossed her arms tightly, beginning to think she was making a mistake.

"It's like 2am, Elijah. If I'm wasting my time here, let me know."

He downed his drink but said nothing.

"Really?" she scowled. "The silent treatment? You said you wanted to talk - so _talk_."

He immediately went to refill, never looking up from his glass. Leah felt hot with resentment. She wanted to scream at him, slap him hard, do anything to make him listen.

She wanted to be _heard._

"You show up out of the blue after a month - of nothing - and you still have nothing to say to me?"

"What do you want me to say, Leah?"

"What the hell was that upstairs tonight? For Christ's sake, Elijah, you almost killed Darren."

"Who?" he asked distractedly, draining his drink.

"The bartender. My_ friend_."

"Your friend?" he laughed cruelly. "Oh yes. I forgot how easily you make..._friends_."

The tumbler began to splinter as he crushed it in his hands. His anger only embittered Leah more. She swallowed hard, seething - she would choke on her pride before she let him shame her.

"Get over it, Elijah. So I kissed him. If I'd slept with him, you'd _still _not have the right to say a damn thing."

"I would have certainly wanted to hate you for it."

"Is that what this is? This whole pity party you're throwing for yourself? Are you struggling with the fact that I'm not _yours_ anymore?"

"I asked you to wait -"

"- you told me to leave, Elijah. You told me to get on that bus and go home."

"There was more, Leah," he reminded her. "I left you a message."

"Yeah - a bus ticket. I got your message, loud and clear."

"You know that's not what I mean."

"That's right," she scoffed, gesturing sarcastically. "I forgot how you _also_ stuck me with an abandonment complex, two hybrids who _hate_ me, and one downward spiral into alcoholic oblivion."

"A spiral that deposited you between the legs of another man."

"No," Leah raged at him, storming across the carpet. "You don't get to speak to me like that. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"To you? Apparently no one."

"You son of a bitch, you left _me_."

"I had to go, but I didn't leave you, Leah."

"Yes, you did. _You did!_ Because you weren't _here_ when I needed you, Elijah, you weren't _here_ to know what Klaus did to me, to know what _I_ did to myself, so don't you _dare_ march back into my life and demand that I give a damn about your feelings. Don't you dare blame me for trying to forget you with someone else."

"Is that what you want," he sprang up, rattling the table as he rounded on her angrily. "To forget me?"

"I don't want to _feel_ like this any longer, don't you get it? I just can't do _this_ anymore."

Her heart thundered in her chest as it heaved under her shaking hand. She felt like she couldn't breathe and every nerve in her body was screaming for her to run.

She sucked in a shaky breath as he began to approach her slowly.

"What is 'this,' Leah?"

"You - all of it. Everything you do to me."

"How I left you."

"Yes."

"How I've wronged you."

"_Yes._"

"How I've loved you every day that I've known you."

_"What?"_

Leah felt herself stumble through her anger as his words caught her off guard. It didn't help that he continued to bear down on her, his eyes never leaving hers as he closed the distance between them.

He raised his hand to clarify.

"If you want to forget," he told her coldly, "I will make you forget."

"You don't mean that," she scoffed.

"Don't I?"

Leah straightened, realizing he was serious. His gaze was predatory; she was cornered in every way possible.

"Elijah, you couldn't."

"You most certainly know I could."

"Then you _wouldn't_."

But she saw it in his eyes. He would do anything she ever asked of him.

The revelation scared her.

He continued to press her backwards, caging her in until her back hit the island counter. She looked up at him wildly.

"Elijah, what are you doing?"

"I'm waiting, Leah."

_"For what?"_

"Is this what you want?" he said lowly, his voice become dangerously calm. "To forget all the ways I've made you feel?"

His eyes traced up the curve of her neck; when they landed on her lips, Leah tried to turn away.

He had her face in his hands in an instant.

"How it _felt_ when I touched you where you liked to be touched?"

The timber of his voice flowed over her skin, touching in places his hands only teased. Leah tried to protest but a whimper came out instead of words. Her body burned; her heart was on fire.

He pressed his lips to her and she opened beneath him.

It was agony.

It was ecstasy.

It had to stop.

She tore her lips away.

"Elijah, please," she panted, "Stop torturing me."

"I'm not torturing you, Leah, I'm reminding you, of every night that we laid together; every morning you woke in my arms. Every time you screamed my name as I gave myself to you."

_"Elijah - _stop."

_"Then say it."_

_"Yes - for the love of God - do it."_

He stared at her. He inhaled her. He didn't move.

_"Do it_," she shoved him angrily. "You said you'd do it - so _do it_!"

If it was regret that flashed in his eyes, she had missed it. Leah only watched them widen as she waited for the compulsion to be over.

He didn't blink. He didn't compel her.

Elijah threw up his hands and took a step back.

"No."

_"No?"_ she sobbed in confusion. "What the hell do you mean 'no'?"

"No," he rounded on her hotly. "I won't let you leave me alone with these memories, not when there isn't a soul on this earth who can compel me to forget you."

Leah blinked away tears, if only to see more clearly; something unguarded had slipped through Elijah's anger and softened the hardness in his eyes. And if he had only said what he truly felt in that moment, gave a voice to the look on his face, then she would finally know what Elijah Mikaelson feared most.

She took a deep breath, collecting herself with a false confidence. When she spoke it sounded like a apology to them both.

"You need to leave," she told him, her voice shaky but sure. "You need to leave, Elijah, or I do - because if we continue like this you _will_ hate me."

"I could never hate you. Leah, that's not possible."

"Well, I don't want to be here when you prove yourself wrong."

"That's never going to happen," he promised her solemnly, "and I'm not leaving again."

"That's fine," she nodded, backing from the room. "Then I'll be gone in the morning."


	41. Atonement Part II

**_Today, 5 years ago._**

"I'll come back," she apologized, realizing he was on the phone.

"Leah, nonsense," Elijah smiled as he ended the call. "This can wait. I was simply making arrangements for next week in Paris."

"Your sister's engagement party?"

"You sound excited."

She didn't. She was fidgeting nervously with her fingers, her nail polish chipped where she'd worried it anxiously.

Sensing her hesitation, he sat down patiently, extending his arm to invite her forward and pulling her into his lap.

"Leah, what is it – you look distressed."

"It's about last week, when I told you I've been thinking of going back to school."

"I was delighted to hear it. You are very talented, in many ways. Have you decided where you wish to enroll?"

"That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. I've looked into some schools and they all look really great, but the programs are somewhat long and none of them are in…well, they're all really, really far from New Orleans."

"And this is causing you concern? You've been quiet all week."

"I've been trying to work up the courage to…I mean, I know we haven't been dating long but…so I guess what I'm trying to say is –"

"Yes."

"I didn't ask a question," she frowned, but he took her hand anyway and kissed it assuredly.

"Yes, Leah, I will come with you if you decided to leave New Orleans."

"But your brother…your family…you'd move away from your home?"

"Leah, I am yours. I will follow you anywhere."

She was smiling again. He hadn't seen her smile in days. God, she was so beautiful.

"Okay," she sighed giddily, slightly embarrassed with herself. "Okay, wow, this is great. Then maybe later I can show you all the research I've been doing? I've got folders for everything – schools, neighborhoods, _apartments_ – don't worry I won't make us get a dog… but speaking of terriers, what are you thoughts on Boston?"

Elijah was barely listening. He couldn't believe that Leah had all these plans for her future - and her future involved him.

He was happy. He was deliriously happy.

The words just bubbled up.

"Leah, I love you."

She stared at him for a moment, blinking in confusion.

"Okay, but what does that have to do with Boston?"

**_Today, 4 years ago_**

"I think the waitress is flirting with you."

Leah lowered her eyes across the table, stabbing aggressively into her waffle.

From behind his paper, Elijah simply smiled.

"Is that what you've deduced from her coffee pouring habits?"

"Who takes five minutes to pour a cup of coffee? Someone who wants an extra five minutes to ogle."

"Ogle?"

"It means –"

She stopped when she realized he was laughing at her.

"Fine," she sat back. "But when you're trapped under a giant pile of bodies because all these women keep throwing themselves at you – don't ask for my help."

They sat at their booth, the one they'd carved out for themselves at their neighborhood diner. The waitress was new; everyone else knew Leah and Elijah had been coming in here for breakfast every Sunday for months.

Folding the paper and setting it down, Elijah exhaled his amusement.

"I doubt our waitress would be so bold with you sitting right in front of me, my dear."

"I think she thinks I'm your daughter."

"Then I should kiss you more in public. That will clear things right up."

Leah turned aside blushing as the poor waitress reappeared at Elijah's side.

"You reading about the mayor?" she pointed to the headline. "So odd, him just skipping town like that."

"Isn't it?"

"Well can I get you anything else?"

"Just the check, thank you."

"Sure thing," she smiled, and Leah swore she saw her wink.

"Hey," she snapped her fingers, demanding the waitress' attention. "You with the boundary issues."

"Leah…" Elijah warned gently, returning to his paper.

"I'm just settling the check," she hushed him, turning back to the woman in the apron. "Yeah you, new girl – two things: make sure you give us our frequent customer discount and then go home and find a new job."

She beamed victoriously as the woman walked away. Elijah was less amused.

"Did you just compel our waitress?"

"I was giving her some pointed life advice."

"Your jealousy is completely unnecessary."

"I'm not _jealous_…just – territorial. It's a wolf thing."

Looking at her softly over his paper, he reached across the table to take her hand.

"I guess this makes us even then, for that unfortunate incident at the City Gala last week."

"Just promise me you'll stop compelling every guy who hits on me to leave town - _especially_ when it's the mayor."

**_Today, 3 years ago_**

Coming into the kitchen, he surprised her from behind, kissing her cheek before looking down at what she was writing.

"Darling, what is this?"

"It's one of those subscription cards, for a magazine. _The Bostonian_ – lifestyle and entertainment in the city. So what do you think? One year or two?"

"Two?" he asked, baffled.

"You're right," she frowned, scribbling out her previous answer. "Let's make it three."

He watched her fill in their address in quiet disbelief: for 'name' she had simply put 'the Mikaelsons."

"Leah… I'm not sure that's how it works."

"Oh, you're right," she stared at the address, biting the end of her pen. "I totally got the zip code wrong. That's for New Orleans."

That wasn't exactly what he had meant.

"02138, not -37."

"Oh, right. I really should know this by now."

"Leah, why are you troubling yourself with this at all?"

"Researching ideas for date night?"

"You've never lacked inspiration," he said seriously.

"Okay, you got me," she sighed, pushing away the subscription card. "I just wanted, like…a thing."

"A thing?"

"Just between us," she looked at him sadly. "Like this is your apartment and your furniture and all your stuff – so sometimes it doesn't feel like_ our_ life. Sometimes it just feels like I'm a temporary fixture – like a lamp."

"Leah, you are not a lamp."

"I feel like a lamp."

Elijah looked at her thoughtfully as he began to understand. A three-year subscription was more than just a commitment to some poorly opinionated local magazine – it was a long-term commitment to each other - it was a permanent place in each other's lives.

"Then," he started slowly, picking up the card. "I think we're going to need to find a stamp for this."

**_Today, 2 years ago_**

"What are you always writing in there?"

Throwing herself on the couch across from him, Leah folded her arms behind her head. They had just moved into their townhouse and the living room was still exploding with boxes in various stages of unpacking.

The study was still not set up. Elijah had been forced to do his journaling in public.

"Thoughts," he sighed deeply, closing the leather binding. "Memories that I'm afraid I'll lose otherwise."

"Way cryptic," she chided him playfully. "Are you jotting down the memory of last night by any chance? Because I think that would just be called erotica."

His eyes twinkled in amusement but he gave nothing else away.

"Never mind, I bet it's something boring," she continued to tease him, "like a grocery list or... 10 Ways My Brother is an Annoying, Egotistical Maniac."

"You're actually quite close on the mark."

"Then read it to me," she begged him, turning her head with a smile. "I promise not to tell anyone else what you write in that very secret diary of yours."

"Perhaps, another time," he eagerly declined, tucking the journal under his arm. He swiftly rose to his feet, stopping before one of the boxes on the floor.

"I should move these into the kitchen," he said hastily, finding an exit from the conversation.

"Is it about me?" she sat up, her voice soft and fearful. "Do you write about me in there? Things you can't tell me…things you don't want to tell me?"

He didn't answer her, just stared down into the box filled with spatulas and oven mitts and another dozen pointless things they were trying to build a life around.

"Come help me in the kitchen when you're ready," he said, then simply left the room.

**_Today, 1 year ago_**

She met back up with him near the self-help section, swinging her purchases in her hand.

"More books?" he looked up from his browsing.

"That's funny coming from you," she laughed. "Like I've said many times before – if we run out of space we'll just get a bigger house."

He chuckled, his eyes scanning over the piled selection on the table. There was a second of awkward silence between them which he then felt compelled to fill.

"Were you able to find something for the flight?"

"Oh, Elijah," she tried to tease him. "Don't you know me by now? No point in trying to read on the plane when I'm just going to pass out as soon as we take off. It's the turbulence – it's _soothing_."

"Then I look forward to seven hours of you sleeping on my shoulder."

"I bet you do," her smile faded, unsure if he was joking.

When he finally looked up she was staring off into the distance.

"Are you excited for Germany?" he asked, curious.

"What? Oh, yeah, of course. Well, I'm excited to spend time with you. Everything always gets so busy between Hope's birthday and the end of the school year. You know what, I'm...I'm going to go hang in the café. I'll find you when you're ready to check-out."

Elijah watched her go, feeling he had failed in this simple interaction. Everything recently was beginning to feel like a test in their relationship. He was glad she was gone. He didn't want her to see his eyes linger too long on the books in front of him.

_Relationship Help for a Broken, Beaten and Battered Relationship. Nine secrets to transforming a broken relationship into a beautiful blossoming one_

Except Elijah was pretty sure keeping secrets was the problem. Next.

_How Can I Get Through To You? Closing the Intimacy Gap Between Men &amp; Women_

Elijah scoffed. As if he had a problem with intimacy. Moving on.

_The How to Happiness: A scientific approach to getting the life you want_

Like love had any sort of logic. What fool wrote these damn books?

_Too Good to Leave, Too Bad To Stay – A step by step guide to help you decide whether to stay in or get out of your relationship._

Elijah winced. For the love of God, things between him and Leah weren't _that_ bad – just, strained, for some reason he wish he knew. He hoped that their summer in Germany would bring them back together, give them the silence and solitude to work through whatever had started to gnaw away at their connection.

After all, they were four years going on five - if they could just get through another twelve months Elijah was sure there was still the possibility of forever.

**_Today_**

"You need to leave," she had said. "You need to leave, Elijah, or I do - because if we continue like this you _will_ hate me."

After that, Elijah wasn't even sure what he had said. It was a fast and final collapse that had ended in her walking away.

This day had been a long time coming.

But it was over.

Finally.

He just stood there, staring at the shimmer in the air where she had been. He no longer felt a desire to go after her, to explain himself, to try to make her _see_.

Leah saw. She'd seen this coming for years.

With martyred acceptance he began to button up his shirt, hastily trying to restore order to his life. Now that Leah was no longer a part of it that would be monumentally easier. He retreated, bumping into the coffee table as he spun around to grab his tie from the couch.

He threw it over his neck without ceremony as she cautiously stepped into the room.

"Elijah?" Hayley whispered, pulling her robe tightly around her. "There's something I need to tell you."

He was rolling down his sleeves, he was buttoning his cuffs.

"It's about the letter," she pressed on. "The note you gave me to give to Leah."

He looked up at her sharply, and for a second Hayley thought he was going to yell at her.

That would have been better. Nothing was worse than the anger of his silence.

She blinked back a tear and realized he was almost out the door.

"Elijah, please," she ran after him, "I'm _sorry_."

There was a scuffle in the foyer as Klaus came through the door and Elijah blew past him. He watched his brother disappear down the hotel hallway.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with him?" he demanded from Hayley.

"Nothing," she snapped, embarrassed he had seen her tears. "Just drop it, Klaus."

"I've been working damage control all night. I don't have time for anymore drama. _Tell me_ what is going on here."

"Take a guess. Elijah came back to talk to Leah."

"Which I can only imagine went _spectacularly_. At least I can assume he's been properly motivated to leave New York immediately...or would you rather have another day to make your peace with him?"

"I don't need to make 'peace' with anyone," she glared at him.

"So you're willing to let some silly letter come between you and Elijah?"

"Some...? How could you _possibly _have known?"

"Do you think I don't know my own brother - do you think I don't know you? How many lines did you even make it through before your jealousy for Leah had you tear that letter in two? Did it make you hot with rage to read through his promises, promises he never made to you...?"

"Go to hell, Klaus."

"Have I hit a nerve? Good. Now take all that anger and go do something with it. I need my brother _functional_, Hayley. Whatever is going between him and Leah, you better make this right before they burn down the city with this ridiculous lovers' spat. That's the last thing we need with Mikael still out there."

He vanished after his brother just as Hope barged into the room.

"Someone tell me what's going on! Why is Leah packing?"

"Just let me talk to her," Hayley began to drag her feet.

"Yeah right, I heard _everything_ you did. This is all your fault, you realize? Leah is leaving _because of you_."

Before Hayley could reassign that role to Elijah, Leah scrambled around the corner. She was hustling so fast it was possible she truly didn't notice the others in the room. Tossing a dark blue backpack onto the island, she pulled open the refrigerator and began digging around in the produce bins.

A second later she was stuffing blood bags into her carry-on.

"Leah, what are you doing?" Hope bounded forward.

"There's train out of Penn in twenty minutes. I'll figure out a way to call you when I get there."

"Leah, listen," Hayley approached her, "– just for second. I know you heard everything between me and Klaus."

"I know that you're a manipulative, lying bitch, does that count?"

"Elijah deserves another chance. That's all I'm trying to say."

"Why? Because Klaus told you to say it? Well, guess what - you're shit out of luck, because I don't _care_ about the damn letter. Knowing it exists doesn't change my mind."

"Then what if you could read it?"

"Some sappy list of excuses? Believe me, I've heard them all. Now, _move._"

Pushing past her, Leah ran from the room. When she returned, she shoved her sweater messily into the bag, never having noticed Hayley slip something in between the chilled bags of blood.

She reached around and yanked the zipper closed, taking off across the carpet only to stop in front of Hope.

"When this is all over, find me."

"Leah, don't go. You promised you wouldn't leave."

She rolled her eyes toward the floor in guilt but only tightened her grip on the strap of her bag.

"I left you something in your room. Just...don't open it until I'm gone, okay?"

"Leah, _please_."

"Goodbye, Hope."

**End of Part 5**


	42. Paradise Lost

**Part 6**

Elijah paused before the door to his suite, catching his reflection in the golden plaque beside it. He straightened his tie, noticing it hang crooked, and tried to nod confidently at the man staring back. My, what a difference a new shirt and jacket made - it almost made the pretense feel real.

His phone buzzed again at his breast and Elijah reminded himself to turn it off completely. He had several missed calls from Niklaus and Philippe and too much pride to tell either of them why he wasn't answering. Whatever they wanted it could wait until morning. He hadn't dressed for a funeral not to spend this time in mourning for all the hopes he'd once had with Leah. They had all succumbed so easily and so fast - but then again they had aways been so fragile and so weak.

It was time to put them to rest.

Tucking the early edition under his arm, Elijah deftly worked the key card into its slot and pushed open the door. The suite was unnecessarily big for just him, the exact replicate on his brother's downstairs.

But the sense of déjà vu was caused by more than just the layout.

Shuffling off his jacket, he threw it down onto the table in the foyer, tossing the newspaper on top of it. Perhaps later he would make himself some coffee and read it while he relaxed in the armchair. Perhaps tomorrow he would call an agent, buy a new apartment and move out of the hotel. Perhaps one day he would return to Boston, sell the townhouse and burn all her things.

Perhaps he could actually move on with his life... as soon as Leah chose to move on with hers.

"How did you get in here?" he finally addressed her.

"I was wondering when you'd notice me."

Her wide eyes peered out at him through the darkness, the muted light from a single lamp falling across her hair. Barefoot and sloven, she remained an admirable beauty, but no less untouchable than the artwork on the walls.

"I thought you were leaving," he voiced indifferently.

"I did – an hour ago."

When she said nothing else, Elijah turned away uninterested. He had already closed the book on them; he was in no mood to reread the last chapter.

"Is there something I can help you with?" he asked pointedly, finally turning off his phone. "Perhaps I can show you the door?"

He swore he saw amusement shimmer across her face, a curious reaction that somehow made him nervous. She just sat there, legs pulled under her, head following him as he moved across the room.

"Are you not happy to see me?"

"No."

"Liar."

She folded her arms, waiting for him to break character. He clearly wasn't pretending as well as he'd imagined.

Elijah turned his back on her, throwing his phone by the sink with a sigh of frustration. One hand on his waist, he leaned his weight on the other against the counter. He could only imagine how Leah had gotten in here and didn't even care why she was. If their relationship was dead, why did she feel the need to haunt him some more? What did she want from him that he even had left to give?

Closing his eyes like coffins, he heard her come alive behind him, ghosting her feet over the carpet as she crinkled something loudly in her hands.

She cleared her throat as if ready to give the eulogy.

"'_My darling Leah…'"_

Her voice was smooth and sarcastic – mocking. She was mocking him.

She was mocking his letter.

"'Forces beyond either of us have _compelled_ me to make this decision.' Ah, so it looks like you _can _be compelled."

"Where did you get that?" he spun on her.

She ignored him, holding the paper higher as she continued to read.

"'And _had_ there been time to speak these words in person, they would not now labor to convey my_ deepest_ regret. Know... _simply..._ that there is nothing you have done... or could ever do... to send me from your side and I can _only ask your forgiveness_-,'"

Crossing the room in a flash, Elijah snatched the paper from her hand.

"We're not doing this," he walked away, taking the letter with him.

"The hell we aren't," she hounded him, swiping it back from this hand. "I did not just jump off a moving train for us _not_ to do this."

He did not even consider the truth of her statement - if she could be this cruel to him she could do anything. Her sadism rivaled the fury of a scorned deity and he watched her pace around the room like a column of vengeful fire.

"If you are reading this now,'" she continued, blithe and bitter, "'Hayley has returned your ticket to you at my request.'"

Leah started to laugh, raising her voice until it rose to a cackle.

"She sure did," she ground out, her nails punching holes through the paper.

"Leah, stop this madness."

"_Sit down_," she snarled at him. "I am_ not_ done reading."

It was the closest Elijah had ever felt to being compelled. He immediately sank down into the armchair, bracing his elbows on his knees and linking his fingers together, silently praying for her to _stop_.

"'Therefore, my _dear_ Leah, I relinquish your ticket... not as a mandate, only as a reminder that you will _always_ have a choice...and although I am afraid these words come too late to change your mind, I beseech you, I beg you to -"

Leah went silent; she had made the mistake of skimming ahead to the end of the letter. With tears now in her eyes she struggled to even finish the sentence she was on.

Reciting from memory, Elijah picked it up.

"Wait for me," he said softly, turning his eyes toward the space between his feet.

"'Wait for me.'" she echoed hoarsely, forcing herself to finish. "'And...and I know what I ask is selfish and more than I deserve, but with you...my...beautiful Leah.. with you there is hope in forever, which is as long as you shall have me, no matter what your heart decides.'"

Leah lowered the letter, unable to keep reading. Her angry tears had already begun to smudge the final lines.

She turned to him slowly, brandishing the paper at him like a sword.

"What the _hell_ is this?"

He looked up at her, confused.

"This is blackmail," she flew at him. "You're trying to _emotionally_ blackmail me into staying."

"Quite the opposite," he said calmly, "all I want is for you to leave."

"You're_ lying_," she stomped, crushing the letter in her fist. "I found this in my backpack as the train was _literally_ rolling out of the station. Are you telling me this wasn't your plan all along - have Hayley plant some letter to _lure_ me back to you? Is that why you let me go so easily?"

"Easily?" he leapt up, raising his voice against her. "Have you come here to _insult_ me?"

"I came here so you could _tell me_ what this letter says!"

"You have it there. You read it yourself."

"I want to hear it from _you_," she snapped in his face. "I want _the words_ to come out of your mouth."

"Words which no longer have meaning, Leah, it would only be a waste of time on both our parts. So _now_ \- if you are quite _done_ \- it is time for you to leave - for good."

He tried to turn his back on her, but she wouldn't let him run like a coward. If he wanted to pretend like he really didn't care she would force a full confession until they both believed it. Dropping the letter to the floor, Leah flew after Elijah to drag him back before her.

"Say it again," she spun him around, "Make me believe it and I'll leave. Prove all of this means _nothing_ anymore and you'll never see me again."

"Then it's just a letter," he indulged her. "My dear Leah, it means nothing."

"And us?" she insisted. "Were we ever anything real?"

"I assure you. Everything I felt for you was a mistake."

Leah's hands clenched in anger; he couldn't even be damned to lie to her properly.

"Now look at me, Elijah, and answer one last question. _Do you still love me?_"

He didn't even hesitate.

"No."

"_Liar._"

"I feel nothing for you anymore."

"Then _make_ me believe it."

She pulled him down hard, dragging him to hell, her hands hot against his face as she welded his lips to her own. Elijah felt the sting of her nails as she gabbed at his tie, anxious if she was trying to free him or strangle him in her eagerness to get it off.

When he raised his hands to help her, she cast them back down, lacing her fingers through his to steer him back toward the armchair.

He fell into it with her on top of him.

"Leah," he gasped, as she yanked his tie forward, breaking the kiss long enough only to pull it over his head. Her assault was continuous as she moved onto to his shirt, sucking hard on his neck as she ripped the fabric hungrily.

She was trying to damn him, trying to brand every part of his skin with the mark of her lips. The heat that rose between them was infernal, consuming; Elijah felt himself burning for his sins. When her hands pulled at his belt he realized she was trying to ruin him forever.

With a roar of desire, he refused to surrender. Surging forward, he lifted her, throwing her down against the coffee table. She hissed when her head hit the glass and growled when he pushed up her dress.

She grabbed at his hand as it slid up her thigh, but he gripped it by the wrist and held it above her. If she was fighting for her heart back, he would put up the fight of his life. His hand moved to capture her breast through her dress. For a moment he humored the gossamer, teasing her above it before tearing it utterly away. The sudden air across her skin made her shiver, but he trailed his hot kisses from her jaw to her navel until she cursed his name and writhed.

When he kissed the lace between her thighs Leah realized she was losing. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she dragged his head from between her legs and brought his mouth back to hers.

Elijah let her take him hostage, relenting momentarily to the fury of her hands. They were in his hair, on his face, pushing the shirt from his shoulders, and when he finally held her, skin to skin, he looked at her softly because it felt like before.

Love - it enraged her when she saw it in his eyes. Growling, Leah dug her nails into his arms and completely threw him from her.

Elijah landed on his back, pinned to the floor as she straddled him, grinding down mercilessly so he knew he was being punished.

"Don't you _dare_ do that again."

"Is that what you want?"

"You know what I want."

He bucked up against her as he rose to meet her kiss, tasting blood on his lip as she warned him again. His fingers left bruises along the length of her legs as he grabbed them like reins and rode her against him. And when he realized the war might be over before they even reached the battlefield, he wrapped those legs around him and carried her away.

The suite had three bedrooms. Anyone would do. All of them would do.

But she fought him every step of the way, bouncing them from couch to counter as she brought the apartment down around them. In the hallway she threw him against the wall, dragging nails down his chest until her hands found his belt again. By the doorway she had gotten him free, torturing him slowly until his hands were fisted in her hair. In the room he was able to regain the upper hand, coating his fingers as he bent her over the dresser and winning his first victory as she fell apart around them.

By the time they reached the bed, their love was a bloodsport.

The devastation of their passion expanded beyond their bodies. The pillows were the first casualties; Leah clawed into them as he drove into her from behind. Then the sheets were in shreds when he bound her wrists to the bedpost. And when he took her like that, gripping the headboard, it cracked like lightning down the middle.

Beyond the growls and groans and pantheon of swears they said nothing else to each other. Nothing else had to be said. Their hands, their lips, their bodies were talking, _screaming_ at each other for everything left unsaid, punishing each other for being such fools, and promising each other this would truly be the end.

But as they approached their ultimate undoing amid the sweat and the savagery, Leah hesitated. If this was going to be their last time together, their last memory, this was not the ending she wanted for their story.

"Elijah..."

He quickened their pace, hearing the need in her voice, and sensing the end buried his face in the curve of her neck.

"No, _look at me_," she shuddered, "like that first time - one last time."

He breathed her name across her lips as he drew his head back to obey. And when their eyes met, like the sea meets the land, they crashed into each other, washing away the very last of what they were.

Then he held her until dawn, like he had the first time, when she was still human, and fragile, and _his_.


	43. Bizarre Love Triangle

When the hotel maintenance staff showed up to replace the broken furniture it was the perfect excuse for Leah to go. Fortunately Elijah had been kind one last time and left on some errand while she'd still been asleep.

It was hunger that forced her back to her own room, that and the fact he'd left her nothing to wear. She'd stolen a shower and one of his shirts and now stepped off the elevator with it buttoned to the top. Leah realized it was an ironic display of modesty. Still, despite her tangled hair and bare legs, it was hardly a walk of shame and she dared anyone who ran into her to even lift a brow.

Fortunately, the halls were empty. Quiet. It was too early on a Saturday for anyone to really be up.

Except, Hope - which was lucky for Leah. Without a key card, she had to knock for someone to let her in.

"Hey," she waved, shouldering her way through the door. "Glad one of us is a morning person."

"Leah - where have you been?!"

"Isn't that obvious from the lack of pants? Let me in, I need to borrow some clothes."

She shoved past Hope with nonchalant determination, heading first for the kitchenette. Hope gently shut the door behind her, relieved - but confused - why her best friend was back.

"Some of my clothes? Where are yours? Where's your backpack?"

"No clue," Leah shrugged, making a detour to the fridge. "Are your folks home? Now that would be awkward."

"My -? No... no, Hayley's out looking for Elijah and Klaus has been looking for _you_."

"For me? Weird."

"Yeah, he freaked out when he learned you'd left, even called in some witch named Sankar to try to find you."

"A witch? Gross."

"He'll be here tonight, Leah. Dad's called some kind of family meeting and he apparently really needs for you to be there too. That's why he flipped when you ran."

"I didn't run. I took a cab. It was like 30 blocks."

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh."

Hope was hurt that Leah didn't seem to care what she'd put everyone through - especially her. When a tornado rips through your life the least it can do is say sorry.

But you'd be a fool to expect it to.

"So," she asked quietly, "will you be there tonight? Or do you still have a train to catch?"

"Isn't it a family meeting?"

"Yes."

"Then no. Obviously."

Leah stood in front of the open fridge, frowning.

"And what happened to all my blood bags? All the O-neg's gone."

"I don't know," Hope answered sarcastically. "Did you leave them on the train along with your backpack and your clothes?"

"Huh...maybe. I can't remember."

Leah continued to consider it distractedly, shutting the refrigerator and scratching her head. She felt weird, kind of out of it, and there were a number of reasons why she was simply _exhausted_.

"Never mind, I'll just make coffee."

Hope watched in growing annoyance as Leah began to move around the kitchen, opening and closing everything, even places where coffee had no right be. It wasn't until her friend had checked the freezer for the second time that Hope had to intervene.

"Leah, are you drunk or something?"

"I don't know…maybe?"

"Maybe? Leah – you _stormed_ out of here last night saying you were hopping a train somewhere and now you just waltz back in here hours later like nothing even happened?"

Leah found this a very odd summary of her night as she checked inside the freezer – again. Hope began to suspect that her friend was lying to her about searching for the coffee - and about everything else.

"In case you were wondering, the ice cubes and apple pie haven't moved," she grumbled.

"Yeah, why is there a frozen pie in here anyway?"

"Why are you looking in the there at all? Why are you even _here_ at all? What happened?"

Leah pulled her head out of the freezer, cradling it gingerly as it started to pound.

"I'm not feeling so hot, Hope. I'm going to go lie down."

"In your bed or Elijah's?"

"Wha...what are you talking about?"

"That's his shirt you're wearing, isn't it? I'm not an idiot, Leah, I have eyes."

"And so you're _mad_ at me? Because everything's fine and I'm happy for once?"

"You don't look happy. You look miserable and hung over."

"Because I'm tired of your judgment, which I _totally_ don't need, especially this morning. In fact, you know what, forget the coffee. I'll just go to Starbucks."

She was halfway to the door before Hope had to stop her.

"Leah, you have no pants on."

"Fuck," she muttered, switching directions. "I'm stealing some from you then."

"While you're in my room," Hope followed after. "Mind pointing out what you left for me? You said you wanted me to look at it after you were gone but I couldn't find anything."

She leaned against the doorjamb watching Leah yank open her dresser.

"And I'm not mad at you, Leah…but you nearly gave me a heart attack when you just walked out last night. You weren't even going to tell me where?"

"Chicago," she revealed, pulling on a pair of jeans. "First train out in the morning."

"Who do know there?"

"No one, that was the point - Ah, there we go."

Smiling at herself in the mirror, Leah combed her fingers through her hair and sighed contently.

"Now I'm ready."

"Ready for what? Are you already leaving again?"

"I have to meet someone."

"In Starbucks?"

"You ask too many questions," she tutted, patting Hope on the head as she passed her in the doorway.

Feeling utterly patronized Hope trailed after Leah angrily down the hall.

"If you're meeting up with Elijah you can just tell me. You should also tell me if you're planning to meet up with some sketchy drug dealer in the park."

"Is that a joke?"

"I don't know, you tell me, you're obviously strung out on something. See, this is what I was worried about. Elijah comes back and you're all over the place. You were doing so _well,_ Leah."

"_Well_?" she pulled down a mug. "Are you saying you don't like me this? Like me happy?"

"This is _not_ you happy."

"Can't you see I'm fine, Hope? And Elijah's fine and everything's fine - so accept it or back off.""

"Back off? What, so Elijah returns and you throw me to the wayside?"

"Look, if you have a problem with Elijah - take it up with him. I don't want to hear it."

"I have a problem with _you_ – you should realize you deserve better than this."

"Do you hear yourself," Leah groaned, filling up the mug with a bag of B-positive. "You're like a stereotype of a stereotype: the clingy best friend who gets jealous when the boyfriend comes around."

"He came around after _a month._ How can you forgive what he did in a handful of hours?"

"I never said I _did_...and you have no idea what you're talking about so do yourself a favor and drop it."

The microwave was right above her but she made no move to heat up the mug; she couldn't wait - the cravings were too keen. Leah gulped hard, swallowing down the cold blood with a look of pure revulsion.

"Ugh," she moaned miserably. "This is not working. I need something more."

"Maybe if you hadn't stolen half our supply last night."

"Oh don't start this again," she huffed, going in to retrieve another blood bag.

Hope frowned as she watched Leah pull out the stopper and drink it straight.

"Really? For God's sake - take two seconds and warm it up."

Instead, she strangled the bag until every drop was gone then tossed the husk aside.

"That'll have to do. I'm already late."

"Late for what? Leah, who are you meeting?"

"Stop mothering me, Hope. I swear to God."

"Just tell me where you're going. It's dangerous out there! Leah, Mikael..."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I know. Chill."

She loosened the top button of Elijah's shirt, starting to feel suffocated from the inside out...and she was _still_ hungry. This was not good; it had been weeks since she'd had the urge to rip into someone's throat.

Leah dove back into the fridge for her third blood bag of the morning, tearing into it with her teeth, not bothering to remove the plug.

Hope didn't know much about being a hybrid but she didn't think that was normal.

"I think you should…slow down or something."

Leah sputtered, coughing as she sucked too much down at once. As if suddenly realizing what she was even doing she threw the half-empty blood bag into the sink with a gasp.

Hope stepped forward slowly, hesitant to help.

"Are..are you okay?"

"I…I don't feel so good," she groaned, grabbing a dishtowel for her face.

"What do you mean 'don't feel good'? You're a hybrid, Leah, you can't get sick. What's wrong with you?"

"There's nothing wron_g_ with me," she snapped, throwing the towel at Hope. "Why do you feel you always have to worry about me all the fucking time?"

"Because I'm your _friend, _Leah, and the _only_ one who cares about you!"

"Then take a vacation from your abandonment issues and go get yourself a life. Better yet, go get yourself a new boyfriend because God _damn_ do you need to get laid."

Leah didn't even realize Hope had slapped her until the entire side of her face was on fire.

/

The elevator doors slid open and Hayley sighed in relief.

"Finally. There you are."

He conspicuously went to close the doors on her but she brought her hand down between them.

"Elijah - _wait_."

Sliding herself in, she joined him in the otherwise empty compartment. It wasn't until the lift doors shut again that Hayley realized she'd condemned herself to fifteen floors of awkward tension.

"So..." she rocked back on her heels. "Going down?"

"Excuse me?"

She took a breathe and decided to start over. Elijah was clearly still in a mood and despite herself she felt guilty for causing it.

"Your phone's off. Klaus has been trying to call you for hours."

She looked over at Elijah, expecting him to jump to the ready at the news.

He didn't even blink.

"Anyway," she continued through his silence. "Mandatory meeting at seven. Guess if you're sticking around you might as well know what's been going on with this plan against Mikael."

Not even the mention of his father was able to crack his silent facade.

"Okay," she rolled her eyes. "I get it. You're still pissed at me. Fine. I've just a messenger anyways - like always. Klaus expects you to be there tonight, Elijah, and he expects you to bring Leah."

"Leah is no longer my responsibility."

"He speaks."

"We have nothing to say, Hayley."

"I gave it to her, Elijah. I did my part. If you crashed and burned with Leah that has nothing to do with me."

He turned away, staring blankly at the numbers descending toward the lobby.

"So that's it?" Hayley huffed. "You're just never going to forgive me?"

"You always think it's that simple."

"It used to be. What should I tell Klaus?"

"If this is about Mikael. I will be there, and I will not come alone."

"Great...and maybe while you're there you can - I don't know - acknowledge Hope? Ask her how she's doing? Be there for her like you're supposed to be?"

"Hope is an adult and a hybrid now, Hayley. I'm sure she would appreciate living her own life."

"Are you sure you're talking about Hope and not Leah?"

The doors opened, mercifully, and Elijah nearly fell out of them in his haste to evade her question.

"Seven o'clock," she called after him smugly. "And bring your plus-one."


	44. No One's Here to Sleep Part I

Hope blew a wayward curl out of her face as she watched the neon 7 morph into an 8 on the microwave clock. Leaning her head against the armrest, she threw one leg over the other as she settled back onto the couch and flipped open her copy of _Around Town New York_. She had been drawn to the cover story on 'This Summer's Top 10 Hottest Songs' but had barely even opened the magazine before her parents started howling at each other.

"I asked one thing from you, Hayley - _one thing."_

"Hey, I told him, okay? He _said_ he was coming, Klaus."

"And yet here we are and an hour later Elijah is still no where to be seen."

"Why do we have to wait for him? Can't we just get the ball rolling?"

"And start a meeting about Leah – _without Leah? _Now that's just rude."

"Yet that's somehow _my_ problem?" Hayley rightly protested.

"Yes! _You_ were supposed to make sure my brother brought her!"

"Look, Klaus – if Leah wanted to be here, she'd be here. Hope told her about the meeting herself."

The two hybrids turned toward their daughter, who didn't even look up as she lazily turned the page.

"Oh," she paused, noticing they'd stop shouting and were now staring at her. "What?"

"Is this true?" Klaus asked with suspicion. "You saw her last?"

"Am I being interrogated? Because it's not like she's a missing persons. Leah told me herself she was jumping ship."

"I don't care if she jumped off a _cliff_, I said I needed her _here_."

"Whoa," Hayley checked him. "Lay off her, Klaus. It's not Hope's job to hand out your invitations. If you wanted Leah here so badly you could have done something about it yourself."

"And what do you suggest?" he grumbled. "Drag her back across state lines? From what Hope is telling me she could be anywhere by now."

"Then if you care so damn much, why don't you call up this witch you've been buddying up with for weeks and get him to do a locator spell?"

"Because it won't _work_ on her, Hayley – which is why I called this meeting in the first place!"

As they started up again, their daughter sighed, yanking open her magazine in frustration and trying to bury her head among the movie reviews. Of all the days she couldn't care less about Leah, her friend was the center of attention – and she wasn't even here!

Hope scowled, turning the page so roughly she tore it. She was still seething about this morning when Leah had completely blown her off; she'd deserved every ounce of that slap if not more.

So if Leah had left town then all the better. Good riddance!

"I'm going to kill him," her father was now pacing. "Hayley, when Elijah gets here, I swear to God –"

"Klaus, calm down. I'm sure he's just out there somewhere trying to track down Leah."

"Then why isn't he answering my calls?"

"I wouldn't either if I knew you were throwing a tantrum."

"I am not -,"

He crossed his arms angrily and sulked.

"Point made," Hayley sighed. "Now what's so important anyway that you're forcing us all to be here?"

"_What's so important_?" he gaped at her in disbelief. "You mean _besides_ the constant threat of our imminent and utter destruction?"

"You think Elijah's drawn Mikael into town?"

"I think my brother has _completely_ lost sight of anything other than the Shakespearean drama that he's turned his life into, and as _star-crossed_ as it may be at the moment, I think it's time I remind him that true tragedy is what will happen if our father finds us once more unprepared."

Hayley's eyes fell anxiously on her daughter. Hope was still ignoring her, trying hard to focus on clothing and music and make-up like she could still be that innocent girl.

Alternatively, Klaus' eyes had drifted toward the kitchen as he distractedly reminded himself to check that the White Oak stake was still safely hidden.

Then the front door flew open with such a sharp bang both of them nearly jumped.

"Elijah," Klaus glared, "Where the bloody hell have you been?"

"Forgive me," he said smoothly. "I was told to bring a guest."

Hope turned around to see who it was and nearly rolled off the couch.

Hayley's mouth fell open in utter speechlessness.

And no one would soon forget Klaus Mikaelson's expression as Philippe appeared through the doorway, walked right up to the hybrid, and punched him in the face.

"That's for Rebekah," the vampire flexed.

"Is this going to happen _every_ time we meet?"

Klaus winced, holding his face as he worked his jaw tenderly. He glared over at his brother who was clearly enjoying this.

"So the secret's out," he managed to grind out painfully. "I should have known…"

"Philippe!" Hope scrambled forward, rushing into his arms. "You're alive!"

"Of course," he hugged her enthusiastically, "how else could I bring you these?"

He wiggled the box of tiny _massepain_ fruits from the pocket of his coat, fixing the lavender ribbon on top before handing it over to Hope with a sparkling smile.

"Don't worry," he winked at her. "I made sure there were no apples in the mix."

"Oh, _typical!"_ Klaus groused, seeing how Hope so easily warmed up to everyone but him.

"Ignore him," she apologized, humbly accepting his gift, "and tell me, please – how is this possible? Everyone said you were dead."

"Well, I'm like you now," Philippe tapped her nose fondly. _"Toujours et...pour toujours."_

Klaus rolled his eyes until they landed on his brother. Elijah was still standing by the door looking both smugly condescending and subtly threatening at once.

"Perhaps you have something to say, Niklaus?"

"Yes, okay... so I _may_ have forgotten to tell everyone Philippe was alive. "

"'Forgotten'?" Hayley spun on him angrily. "Klaus you _lied_ to us."

"Well, had I'd known he'd show up with treats perhaps I'd been a little more forthcoming."

"We are going to _talk_ about this later," she warned him.

"Oh, come, love, don't be like that. I was going to tell you eventually...at some point...tonight."

"Tonight? After _weeks _of letting Hope think he was dead? And what about Rebekah?"

"Safe, happy, and home," Philippe stepped forward, "although she's going to want my head when she realizes I'm not actually visiting my great-aunt in Switzerland."

It could have been a joke, but he shared a grim expression with Elijah and the mood instantly darkened. Klaus only had to notice the tension in his brother's stance to know what was going on here.

"So Philippe called you too, I see."

"I believe he did not trust that you would tell me what I needed to know."

"Well if someone would have _picked up their phone…"_

"I received your messages, Niklaus. One would have been enough."

"So you already know that…."

"Yes."

"Because the two of you have already..."

"_Yes_, Niklaus."

Still clutching the marzipan to her chest, Hope turned in confusion toward her mother.

"What are they talking about?"

"I think," she looked between them. "Elijah invited Philippe here about Leah."

"I'm his second opinion," the vampire explained, shouldering off his outer coat as he prepared to get to work. "Your father, Hope, has shared with me some of his…well, some recent discoveries. He's been working here in the city with my old mentor, Sankar – I don't know if you've had the pleasure to meet him yet."

"He's coming tonight," she remembered her father saying.

"He's _late,"_ Klaus muttered, storming off toward the liquor cabinet. "Not that punctuality is widely appreciated."

"That is my fault," said Philippe, who was now rolling up his sleeves. "I touched based with him as soon as I landed at Elijah's request. He's still down with the Coven double-checking everything. This is not something we want to be wrong about...which means, I should really try to reach him again before I say anything more. Excuse me, I'll be right back. And, uh…someone should put on some coffee. It's going to be a long night."

If the mood hadn't been ominous before it certainly was now. As Philippe left the sitting room to make his call, the brothers shared a look so tense you could pluck it like a string.

"Then it seems you have everything sorted," Klaus said through his teeth.

Elijah moved into the room slowly, surveying all the faces staring back at him.

"If _anything _we will be discussing tonight has even the smallest possibility of being true, then I will not leave my brother to the conduct of this conference. He has felt it within his right to choose who knows what for long enough. This abuse must end tonight."

Hope felt herself inclined to agree although she remained largely unsure what was even going on. Setting her box down on her forgotten magazine, she took her place in the circle between her parents, crossing her arms and taking charge of the conversation.

"Okay, why don't we start with someone telling me what's going on?"

"Perhaps _your father _should have that honor," said Elijah.

"No need to rush the agenda," Klaus stalled. "We're still missing our MVP, after all."

"Then when can we expect Leah?"

Klaus appeared confounded for a second before he simply started to laugh.

"Oh, this is rich," he gestured dramatically. "The best friend and the boyfriend and _neither_ of you know where she is?"

He waited a moment in the awkward silence for either of them to look up, but Hope had dropped her eyes to her shoes and Elijah had closed them completely.

"Ah - of course," Klaus realized, "and so the final act rises on this _ridiculous _family drama. This is bloody unbelievable! Leah's running around someplace untraceable - _uncloakable_ \- and I can't even count on the two of you to _care!"_

"It's hard to care about someone who doesn't give a _shit_ about you," Hope snapped, completely taking her father by surprise with her vulgarity.

Even Elijah turned his chin up, though he remained tight-jawed and silent.

"Settle, love," Klaus raised his hands calmly, "didn't mean to spark any fires. I think we have quite enough raging already."

"I thought she _was_ cloaked," Hope challenged him anyway. "_You_ said you had both me and Leah cloaked from Mikael as soon as we got here."

"I…may have partially told the truth."

"_What?"_ she glared at him. "Why would you cloak me and not Leah?"

"I couldn't, Hope – we couldn't! Sweetheart, don't be cross, _listen_."

"Listen? All you do is _lie _to me. You lied about Philippe – w_hy?_ Why do you do all these horrible things that have no purpose?"

"They do, love, _they do_ – I'm trying to keep you safe. That's why I have asked that you don't leave this hotel, Hope; it's not safe when the magical interference from Leah keeps voiding all our safeguards and she's been wandering around in a haze putting us all in danger."

She wrinkled her nose, failing to process anything he had just said.

"What do you mean_ interference_?"

Hope looked around for answers only to realize everyone already knew. No longer trusting her father, she turned around to get a straight answer from Hayley.

"What is he talking about, Mom? Leah can't do magic."

"She doesn't have to do anything. The Harvest magic's just in her."

"That has _not_ been confirmed," Elijah was quick to clarify.

"Says the man in denial," Klaus snorted.

"I am not in _denial_, Niklaus, I am simply unwilling to even consider taking action until every last bit of this theory of yours has been vetted and verified to the fullest extent."

"And while you wait for that, Leah and Mikael are having tea someplace lovely downtown..."

"I _refuse_ to believe it," Elijah's voice shook. "There would have been _signs. __I would have __seen__ them."_

"Would you, dear brother? You know what they say about love and blindness. Even now, can you tell me what caused Leah's blackouts?"

"Her what?"

_"Exactly."_

Hayley saw the intent flare up in Elijah's eyes and jumped between the brothers.

"Hold up," she forced them apart. "What were you saying about fires, Klaus? Let's just try to put them out one at a time. Stop taunting Elijah and just tell him what you mean about Leah's blackouts."

"Oh, the irony!" he cried out theatrically. "That I, her one true confidant, alone know the harrowing truth -"

"_Niklaus_," Elijah bellowed, "you will tell me now or you will regret every second you are wasting."

"Ooh," he shuddered mockingly, "you know how I just love it when you threaten me, brother. Such anger, such rage! How it must pain you so to hear that Leah has secrets she never confessed to you. Oh, but she told me it all – the confusion, the fear, the hours she could never remember, how she'd stagger home covered in –"

"Klaus!" Hayley whacked him. "Get to the point before Elijah murders you!"

"I am!" he rubbed his arm. "My point is that Leah's been communicating with Mikael!"

Elijah grit his teeth as Hope and Hayley gaped at him with a mix of horror and confusion.

"_Nothing_ has been confirmed," he told them with fading confidence. "Nothing."

"Then good news, bad news," Philippe returned, lowering his phone as he walked back into the room. "I was just on the line with Sankar. He apologizes for his tardiness; he's still in a conference with a coven in Mumbai that has some experience with preternatural resurrection rituals…but he was able to confirm some other things for us."

"Is that the good news?" Elijah asked roughly.

"Ah, no. The good news is there's no criminal intent. If Leah is in fact in communication with Mikael during her blackouts it's by no desire of her own...not that any of us thought otherwise."

Philippe felt tremendously guilty for making the room go so quiet.

"And the bad news is… Klaus is right. Leah has been working for Mikael."


	45. No One's Here to Sleep Part II

Elijah had no choice but to surrender to the truth.

It was one thing to reject his brother's paranoid suspicions about Mikael or even his own deepest fears about Leah, but when it came to the intricate matters of magic Philippe spoke as surely as an oracle.

But there was still one unbeliever in the crowd.

"You can't be serious," Hope stepped forward. "Don't tell me you all are buying this."

She gazed around the circle at her family: her father vindicated, her mother pensive, her uncle just standing there in silence.

His quiet acceptance enraged her.

"Tell them it's not true, Elijah. Tell them Leah wouldn't _betray_ us like that."

"That's not what I meant to suggest," said Philippe.

"But you did. You just accused her of working with Mikael."

"It's not that simple, dear Hope."

"_Then make it simple."_

She immediately regretted raising her voice.

"I'm so sorry, Philippe. I didn't mean to yell at you, I'm just...confused. I feel like everyone's already accepted something I've barely begun to process."

He came around the couch to take her hand, kissing it gently in understanding.

"No need to apologize for how you feel. I know all this comes hard for you to hear, especially because Leah was your friend."

"She_ is_ my friend," Hope corrected him sternly, "so if she was helping Mikael, I think I would know."

"Not when Leah doesn't even know herself. The memory loss is a consequence of the connection between her and Mikael."

"Wait, go back," Hayley finally spoke. "What connection? Are you saying the two of them are somehow _mentally_ linked?"

"No, but also yes - here, let me try to explain. Hope, do you recall those months when the sire bond reactivated between you and your mother?"

"Yeah, sure," she answered cautiously. "That was the year I met Leah."

"And do you remember how you were able to flood the link between you and Hayley with certain emotions in order to manipulate her into doing things for you?"

"Well, when you put it like that..."

"Good. Now consider that link, that power of suggestion - in reverse - so that now it's Hayley who can get you to do things, go places, bring her things, if she - like you did - discovered how to manipulate that bond between you."

"Wait...so is Leah my mom or is Mikael?"

"Bloody hell," Klaus muttered, deciding he needed a drink. "What a question."

"In this situation, your friend is your mother," Philippe continued, "and as you know the bond only goes one way. So that is how Mikael has been manipulating Leah against her will."

"Which is _one_ of the few reasons she's still alive," Klaus added, albeit from the safety of the far side of the room.

Still he failed to deflect the lethal glare thrown his way by his brother.

"But Hayley knew when she was being manipulated," Elijah turned back to Philippe. "Explain to me how Leah could have no knowledge of her actions."

"Just like a sire bond, her link to Mikael lies mostly dormant. Only when he calls upon it does it demand something from her."

"And what," he asked unsteadily, "besides her free will, does this bond demand?"

"Power - something to fuel it. Consider a battery, a little source of power, but in this instance full instead of magical potential. The link between Mikael and Leah is fueled by the Harvest magic inside her. She is the perfect vessel for that power - immortal, indestructible, and unable to use any of it herself."

"Then the interference that compromised the cloaking spells, the protection spells - the magic that was stronger than even your own -?"

" - is active in Leah, yes, and fueling her link to your father."

"And are you sure she would have no memory of these incidents?"

"Well, it appears there's been a fail-safe against self-incrimination engineered into the bond. Like I said, only when the bond is active does it draw power from Leah - so much that it would overwhelm her, drain her, exhaust her. It would overload her system and wipe her hard drive, so to speak. She'd have no memory of where she'd been or what she'd done. If you had asked her, she couldn't even lie to you."

"And you are _certain_ of this?" Elijah insisted. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"I must admit this is a level of complexity in magic I personally have never before witnessed, but yes, I am certain this is what we are dealing with, and Sankar will be able to confirm all I am telling you now. Those Quarter witches, to their credit, definitely knew what they were doing."

"_Quarter_ _witches?_" Hayley scowled on cue, "You mean the witches of New Orleans? What do they have to do with this?"

Twisting off the top of a brand new bottle of bourbon, Klaus began to laugh.

"A coven of witches drops dead and you think the story ends there? Oh no, love - that night was simply the beginning. Everything about this foul disaster bears the stench of that old bat Ramirez - even in death she continues to be the thorn in my side."

"Then this is my fault," Elijah softly realized. "Had I not killed her daughter she would never have sought such vile tactics to achieve her revenge."

"Oh, don't be so pathetic, brother. Antonia Ramirez was rabid with the delusion of resurrecting our enemies. She needed to be put down. Let Philippe tell you, those witches have always had their pick of reasons to despise us."

"There is some truth to what Klaus is saying," he nodded. "Long before now the witches of your city were a dying coven. You have to realize there are different ways to practice magic. Spirit magic, sacrificial magic - I even know a coven that draws its power from the dreams of children, a bit unorthodox but magic is magic, you just need to know how to tap into it. Now the witches of New Orleans practice _ancestral _magic; they receive their power from their consecrated dead. So every hundred years, as you know, the elders must complete a ritual called the Harvest to appease these ancestors and restore their waning power. However, that ritual has been thwarted twice now, meaning no more ancestors, no more elders, no more magic. Thus the French Quarter witches only really had one choice: use Leah or face extinction."

"So this _is _your fault," Hope turned on Elijah."You told me once that you wiped out the bloodlines of every Harvest girl to prevent the witches from ever completing the Reaping. Do you realize you therefore_ forced_ them to put all that magic into Leah? You left them no one else!"

"I was preventing them from using said magic to resurrect a number of characters who wanted you dead."

"But you couldn't _prevent_ them from killing Leah, could you? And now you've allowed them do this to her again!"

"The only thing I have _allowed_," he grated, "is allowed Leah to return to New Orleans... or need I remind you, Hope, that the witches could not have touched her had she not been there for your birthday."

The entire room went silent; the only sound was the ice slowly melting in Klaus' drink.

"Yes, okay," he finally managed to speak, clearing his throat. "So, instead of focusing on important things like how exactly a werewolf-vampire hybrid ends up as the all-powerful, immortal vessel for the last remaining shreds of magic belonging to a desperate and dying militant group of witches, why _don't_ we just sit around and pointlessly blame each other?"

Hope and Elijah got the message. They retreated to opposite sides of the room, Elijah joining his brother in the kitchen and Hope taking the armchair near the door.

"Glad that's settled," Klaus declared, frowning at both of them in disappointment. "Now, Philippe, if you are prepared to lead us into another round of overwrought pedantic explanation - the floor is yours."

Poor Philippe could not look anymore uncomfortable.

"Um, of course, yes, where was I? Ah, the witches. They had two goals and one plan. First, reclaim the magic that was theirs by right and two - drive all of you out of town."

"You mean resurrect Mikael to hunt us down and destroy us," Klaus added flatly.

"It would certainly be a long game for them to play. You can bring someone back from the dead in a span of hours but the full process of tapping into Leah's magic would have taken months."

"Months?" Hayley echoed, still sharply side-eying Elijah. "You mean we could have seen this coming?"

"Well, magic always leaves signs, but we can't always see them. Assuming the French Quarter witches would have wanted to begin such a massive endeavor under the auspices of some natural phenomenon, my best guess is they've been working at prepping Leah since that comet went by in August."

From the sidelines of the conversation, Elijah suddenly found it hard to breathe. He gripped the edge of the counter for support as Philippe's final words hit him hard.

August.

Before Pennsylvania and Naples there had been Germany, the end of the summer and the beginning of a nightmare. If what Philippe spoke was true, Leah's attack on the staff at the bed and breakfast had been a screaming cry for help - one he'd never even heard.

There had been blood on the walls and on her hands and he'd never truly stopped to asked _why_. He'd simply washed it all away as fast as he could and had her promise not to speak of it again.

Since August she had only gotten worse.

They had only gotten worse.

"Here," his brother appeared at his side, shoving a drink into his hand. "For the guilty conscious. I do hope you've been sufficiently motivated to care again."

Elijah just stared into the bottom of his glass as it shook ever so slightly in his hand.

"How could I have missed this?"

"Well, it's impossible to find what you don't look for. Speaking of..."

"I think I know where Leah is," Hope flew in from the side, slamming her magazine down on the counter. Parting the glossy cover in front of her uncle, she pointed at a large white "#1" on a middle page.

"What am I looking at?" Elijah asked briskly.

"_This_," she jabbed her finger forward. "Leah's wanted to go to one of their concerts for months and they just _happen_ to be playing tonight in New York? No coincidences, remember."

He raised his eyes to her skeptically, wondering what she saw that he didn't. The page was washed in heavy blues and purples, lines of bright green and yellow sliding along a shimmering mass in the sky above a bright white arctic plain.

All the way at the top, in the number one spot, was the hottest song of the summer: _Borealis_.

"What is this?" he read blandly.

"Elijah, _are you serious_?" she was judging him harshly. "She hums it all the time – she even set it as your ringtone! Are you truly telling me you don't know Leah's favorite song?"

He couldn't say he did, at least not apparently as well as Hope .

"Really?" she turned to everyone in disbelief. "_Borealis_? They only play it on the radio a _hundred_ times a day. Leah's obsessed – she knows all the words: 'Baby, you're a Northern Light, guide me through this endless night…' No? No one? _Jesus_."

Spinning back around, Hope slammed the spread closed, glaring at Elijah.

"Dad's right. You do miss everything."

Grabbing the magazine from the counter, she shoved it under her arm and startled everyone by bolting for the door.

"No, no, no," Klaus flashed in front of her. "And where do you think you're going?"

"The Bowery. I'm going to find Leah."

"Oh, so now you care too?"

"I know she'll be there, Dad. Even if she's possessed she's not going to miss her favorite band play live."

"Not possessed," Philippe clarified, not that anyone was listening. Klaus snatched the magazine from his daughter and marched it, and her, safely away from the door.

"Nice try, sweetheart."

"But I was the last person to see Leah!" she protested loudly. "She was acting all weird this morning and I shouldn't have let her go. Dad, stop, _listen_ \- _Leah, said she was meeting up with someone_."

She jumped as Elijah was suddenly before her.

"Who did she say she was meeting - _tell me_."

"I don't know!" Hope barked. "I thought it was _you_."

"And this was not information you felt the need to share?"

"Sorry, guess I should have realized sooner my best friend was being _possessed!"_

"_Not possessed_," Philippe reminded them again, "but you do need to find her as soon as possible. From what I hear Hope saying Leah's out there right now somewhere under Mikael's influence - which means you are all in immediate danger."

"That settles it then," Klaus sprang into action. "Hayley – with Elijah. Follow Hope's lead. Philippe - with me. I'm going to need you to get one of your Canal comrades to create a barrier around this entire hotel, a spell strong enough to keep Mikael _out_ and Leah _in_."

"And what should I do?" Hope chased after them.

"You can stay here and guard the suite."

"You're kidding," she huffed angrily. "I'm part of this family - I'm part of this team. Give me a job and let me do it."

"You want a job? Fine - here."

He set his cell phone firmly in Hope's hand.

"If Leah returns, call Philippe to reach me."

"If she returns? You mean comes back _here? _And what am I supposed to do if she does?"

"What you should have done this morning - don't let her leave again."


	46. Dirty Dancing

The bouncer at the Bowery stepped from behind the podium.

"Here for the show?" he asked, sizing up the couple as they approached.

Hayley rolled her eyes and ignored him, pushing through the checkpoint and leaving Elijah to deal with the doorman.

"Come on, man. You know how this goes - I need to see your tickets."

"You really don't," the Original warned, pausing only long enough for the compulsion to work.

Hayley was already waiting for him at the end of the corridor, skeptically surveying the depths of the underground bar. The venue was dark, sweaty; there was a slick velvety feel in the air almost too thick to breathe. Above them the floor thumped beneath the feet of enthusiastic revelers while around them the walls vibrated with the boom-boom-boom of the bass.

All the distractions were making it hard for Elijah to work through a plan in his head. The mission was to find Leah and get her back to the hotel and the trick was to do so without making her lash out or bolt. The only two choices in her life had always been fight or flight; she was either the wolf or the deer that ran from it.

So either way, they would have to sneak up on her.

Watching Hayley now move through the crowd Elijah considered she might be their best bet. The hybrid was well under-cover already; in her ankle boots and leather jacket she blended perfectly with the Saturday night crowd.

He, on the other hand, obviously had not dressed this morning with this evening in mind. With his worry-worn suit and forlorn expression, he looked like a broker who'd just lost it big on the market. Even his eyes held that singular delusion, as if there was still a chance to regain everything lost in the span of a day.

There had to be; he could let Leah go but he could not _lose_ her.

Elijah met up with Hayley at the edge of the bar. She was completely convinced they were barking up the wrong tree.

"I am way too old for this. Leah better be here."

"She's here. I know it."

"Hope knows it - _you_ don't know anything. I mean how did you not know Mikael was using Leah? Actually, never mind; I don't care. I just hope you know what you're doing now."

He turned to her in the dark, unbuttoning his cuffs slowly as he casually dismissed her.

"Hayley, your opinions are not needed and although my brother assigned you to me - neither are you."

"There's a hundred people in here, Elijah. You're going to need my help."

He ignored her completely, approaching the bartender as he withdrew his phone.

"Have you seen this girl?" he opened, avoiding touching anything as he leaned over the sticky counter to show the man the photo on the screen.

The plaid-shirted mixologist glanced up from counting his tips to take a look.

"Hair like that? Nah, I would have remembered. Hot girl though – wait, you're not her dad are you?"

Elijah did not appreciate Hayley laughing behind him, no more than he could manage to tolerate the young man's incompetence. He swore under his breath, pocketing his phone before pushing up his sleeves and doing it the hard way.

Leaning fully over the counter he pulled the bartender forward with a fistful of plaid.

"You will answer my questions," Elijah compelled him, "quickly and completely, do you understand?"

Hayley moved in beside him, glancing nervously around them. The room was packed with people.

"Elijah, what are you doing?"

"Checking if Leah compelled him."

"By compelling him some more?"

"There's always a loophole."

He pulled the bartender in even closer, raising him to eye level.

"Tonight—did you see the girl in the photograph?"

"No."

"Then did someone tell you to _forget_ seeing them?"

"Uh, yeah, actually..."

"And there we go," Elijah sighed, washed in relief. "You and her - what did you discuss?"

"Um...who are we talking about?"

"Leah! The woman who compelled you - w_hat did she say?_"

"Hell if I know, man! I can't even remember what she looked liked!"

"But what did she _say_ to you? Leah only told you to forget seeing her - not to forget the conversation you had with her. That you can remember. _So remember._"

"Hey, all I know is that she said some guy was giving her trouble, that's all I remember. Asked me not tell anyone she'd been around if they came looking."

"And what else?"

"Nothing really. I told her I wouldn't serve her and that was it. She must have been pretty out of it...wait…you're…you're not with the City are you? Is this an inspection? Look - we don't serve minors, strict rule. We check IDs and everything."

"He's not with the City," Hayley grumbled impatiently, "just looking for a _very_ special friend after a _very_ long day."

"Tell me," Elijah growled, "Where did she go?"

"Who?" the bartender blanked. "Sorry, man. I've got nothing. Maybe check upstairs though if you're looking for someone. That's were everyone seems to hide out after ten."

Elijah released his grip, letting the man down. He turned to Hayley, thinking.

"Leah's here," he nodded, sure of it now, "and she's running from someone. Hiding from someone."

"In a club?"

"In a crowd."

Hayley was instantly on guard.

"Wait...do you think Mikael's _here_?"

He left her without an answer. Glancing up at the ceiling, Elijah abruptly began to head toward the stairs. Hayley took off after him but slammed on the breaks when he spun on her.

"You - stay and cover the entrance."

"You want me to fetch and roll over while I'm at it?"

"I would prefer that you let me do this alone."

"What's your deal, Elijah? I want to help. Can't you see that I left my daughter back there at the hotel – by herself, _unprotected_ – to help you find Leah? Stop giving me hell for trying to make this up to you."

He pulled open the top buttons of his shirt in frustration. He undid his tie completely as well, roping it over his head and tossing it freely onto the counter.

"You want to help? Go help Niklaus."

"I'm your backup. What if Mikael's up there?"

Elijah patted his heart over his jacket, feeling the stake hidden in his breast pocket.

"I have fought my father for a thousand years, Hayley. I know what I am doing."

\

Leah loved the simple things in life: good company, great music, and that slick satisfying feeling when she slipped her fangs into his neck. As the music fell into a lower key she moved her hips to the slower tempo, finding a unity of pace with the young man she was dancing with.

Well, feeding from. Whatever.

The best part was that no one even seemed to care. A hundred random strangers circling around her and not a single one paid her any mind as she ground it out on the dance floor with a half-conscious hipster to the rasping riffs of her favorite song.

_ "Baby, you're a northern light, guide me through this endless night."_

The place was packed, bodies to bodies in an atmosphere thick with the smell of sweat, beer and blood. It drove her wild with a primal passion that simply felt _supernatural._ But her date was so perfectly human, and she kissed his neck right above the artery.

_"When my dreams are full of fear, baby, let me know you're here."_

There was electricity in the air, like the music was alive, moving her bodily with the sultry blending of the beats.

_"All the stars up in the sky don't hold a candle to your eyes."_

She loved it here; this felt normal - this felt safe. It was almost enough to make her forget how afraid she was of _him_.

_"So tell me now and don't you lie - is this the time to say goodbye?"_

But by now she couldn't remember who he even was, just that he wanted her to do something important...by whatever means necessary.

_"Dawn may come, the sky may clear, it's not the same with you not here."_

Still starving, she finally stopped teasing her dinner date and bit down. As the music swelled she fed, taking long, selfish swallows from her willing volunteer.

_"Baby, don't you know it's true, baby, what I'd do for you."_

At last Leah pulled away, her teeth glistening with a crimson shine. She held her dance partner close as his dead weight fell against her.

Well, this was a bust. A boy who could barely stay conscious was no fun at all.

_Men are useless_, she sighed, dropping her fangs to finish him off.

_"I was blind but now I see, you're the star that's guiding me. Baby, you're a northern light, shine on through this final night."_

The song faded out along with the young man's heartbeat. Even as she drained him she was scanning the room for her next victim.

She found him staring at her through the crowd.

It was hard to make out his silhouette through the smoke, the lights, and the haze of her blood high. For a moment Leah thought she was hallucinating, that the guy she was feeding from had some serious drugs in his system.

But only flesh-and-blood Elijah was this much of a buzzkill. Grabbing her partner by the shoulder, he pulled him from their embrace, trusting his wrist into the boy's mouth to force the blood down his throat.

"Go home," he compelled him. "And forget everything about tonight."

Wiping the blood from her mouth, Leah scowled at Elijah.

"You owe me dinner."

He peered at her curiously. She was in jeans - and his shirt, unbuttoned so low it was hard not to stare. Her hair was done up messily in a knot, pinned through the middle with a long, silver spike. It shined, like her eyes, though the darkness of the dance floor.

She stared at him so blankly it was impossible to tell if she was the wolf or the deer, if she would strike at him or run from him at the simplest provocation.

Either way, it was up to him to capture her. Elijah composed himself and hid his intention.

"Would a new dance partner do instead?" he offered cordially.

"Who you?" she scoffed, looking him up and down. "You look about a thousand years out of place."

"Is that a no?"

"That's a -"

Not letting her finished, Elijah grabbed Leah's hand, spinning her around so the long length of her back pressed against his chest. Setting his hands on her shoulders, he ghosted them down her arms until his hands wandered down to the curve of her waist, his fingers feeling the familiar flesh through the silken fabric of his shirt.

"I didn't realize you danced," she grumbled.

"You most certainly know I do," he crooned.

"Well, if you're hoping to get lucky there's a line and you just cut it."

"As if you'd ever give priority to any one else but me."

It was almost a second too late that he realized he'd angered her. Leah sprang from him so quickly he barely caught her by the wrist as she tried to flee into the forest of people around them.

Elijah spun her back around, holding her closer with a gentler grasp, trying his best to settle her suspicions.

"Are my dancing skills that dreadful?"

"We shouldn't be doing this. We agreed we wouldn't."

"Then I won't tell if you won't."

When Leah failed to say anything Elijah knew he had her where he needed her to be. All resistance melted from her limbs as she let him lead her, surrendering them both to the siren song on the stage as the music urged the reunion of the lovers with its suggestive, lingering lyrics.

They soon found a rhythm, falling into a synchronized sway like before. Leah's breath hitched in her throat as his hand wandered even lower, her body responded to his familiar touch. Snaking an arm up and around his neck, she burrowed her fingers in the softness of his hair, and momentarily Elijah for the life of him couldn't remember the rest of his plan.

"Leah, we need to—"

"I know, but not yet."

So they kept dancing, one song rolling into the next until Elijah realized how easily he'd been lured from his mission. He wondered if she knew what he was about to do, if she was playing him as well as he was playing her.

Yet even if all of this was just a means to an end, he _wanted_ it. Even tonight's illusion was better than the cold reality he had felt this morning when he'd left her sleeping in bed.

But if Leah was acting like this, it wasn't because she forgave him, wanted him, loved him - it was because the link to his father was active and the magic was burning through her humanity.

"Leah," he whispered decisively, "we need to go back."

"No."

"We can't stay—"

"I'll make you stay," she warned him, turning within his arms to met his dark eyes.

"I'm sure you will," he told her truthfully, tenderly cupping her face. But then with one hand on her shoulder, one tangled in her hair, he swiftly sucked in a breath and snapped her neck.


	47. Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places

Leah's body lay across him, his hand splayed protectively on her shoulder as the taxi sped up Columbus Avenue.

She whined, slowly gaining consciousness.

"It's alright," Elijah whispered, stroking her hair. "We're all going to be alright."

His fingers brushed against something cold as the bright lights of the city that never slept fell onto the long metal pin in Leah's bun.

Except it wasn't a hairpin.

His heart seemed to flatline as he realized the fate they had both escaped. Just as she began to stir, he pulled the silver free from her hair. Waves of auburn fell about Leah's face as she wearily raised her head from his chest.

"Elijah, what happened?"

"First tell me who gave you _this."_

He didn't even give her time to fully wake up, flashing the silver blade in front of her barely opened eyes.

"Leah, this is one of my brother's daggers. Who tore the hilt off? _Who gave it to you?"_

She squinted at the handleless knife, as if she'd never seen it before. Her head was still reeling and she mumbled nearly incoherently.

"Some man, I don't know. Ow - my _neck_."

"What man, Leah. _Who?_"

"I don't know! Just some man I met at Starbucks."

"Leah, do you realize what would have happened if you'd used this on me? You would have _died_."

She stared at him again, that same blank expression that gave nothing away.

"Wait, what? Why would I use that on you? It's a hair accessory, not a sword."

Confused, annoyed, and with the headache to end all headaches, Leah rolled off Elijah completely, slamming back into her seat and wincing painfully as her spine readjusted.

"Ugh, I feel like I was roofied and then decapitated. Hold on...did someone _break my neck_?"

"Leah, I need to know who gave you the dagger. Was it Mikael? What does he want from you?"

"More questions? Can't I have three seconds to figure out which way is up?"

"No," he answered bluntly. "I need to know - everything you remember about today. _Now._"

Leah rolled her eyes out the window; he was being so clingy she wanted to gag.

She needed some air.

"Driver!" she called forward. "Hey, yeah, sorry - can you pull over up here? Thanks."

Elijah was flung back into his seat as the cab came to an abrupt stop. Leah had climbed out onto the sidewalk before he even realized her intention. He took off after her, hustling to chase her down as she fled down the avenue, turning off onto a small side street.

They were only blocks away from the hotel, but she was just standing patiently in the alley when he caught up with her.

"Well, at least you're predictable," she grumbled, waiting for him to come closer.

"Leah, what is the meaning of -"

He was caught off guard by her forwardness. In a burst of both speed and strength she had him up against the brick wall, besieging him with kisses and distracting him the only way she knew how while her hands roamed his body, searching...

Elijah groaned in frustration when she pulled away. To his surprised, Leah was even more riled.

She shouted at him angrily.

_"What the hell is this?"_

He rubbed a thumb across his bruised lips as he peered at the object in her hand. He sighed to realize she had swiped the stake from his jacket pocket.

"This is just _wood_," she shook the stake at him. "He doesn't want_ this_."

"He...? Leah, _no_. Fight this. You _cannot_ take the White Oak stake to Mikael."

"Well, no I _can't, _can I? Because you don't have it, do you? You're useless, Elijah!"

She began to panic, her breathing coming fast and shallow as she pulled at her hair in despair.

"What am I going to do now?" she started crying. "I _have_ to find the White Oak stake for him."

"Fight this, Leah. Mikael is using you - and he does not care if you live or die."

"Shut up!" she cried. "Just stop..._talking. _Can't you see I don't want to do this?"

Desperate to comfort her and blind to her ruse, he came forward to envelop her in his arms. She seemed to let him, dampening his shoulder with big doe-eyed tears as she buried her face into his neck.

But Elijah once again forgot that Leah was a wolf - until she showed her teeth.

It was too late. She had bitten him, hard, the wound on his neck already angry and seething with venom. It burned to even touch it; all he could do was look up at her in utter disbelief as he stumbled backwards.

"Leah...w-what have you done?"

"Oh, come on, Elijah - _so _predictable. You're making this too easy."

Leah pouted to witness the face he was making, all sad and confused and betrayed. Reaching out to take his shoulder steadily, she raised her other hand to put him out of his misery.

Elijah grimaced as the front of his shirt bloomed red; she had plunged the wooden stake into his chest.

He slumped against the wall.

"I'm sorry!" she seemed to apologize. "Bad aim. I totally missed your heart."

She stood over him as he struggled to pull out the stake, his hands shaking and too slick with blood to do any good. He was trying to say her name, as if calling her _my dear_, and _my darling_, and _my love_, was going to save him this time.

"Leah, _please_," he begged her, "don't do this."

"_This?_ This is just payback, Elijah. You used my feelings for you against me. That _hurt. _So now you get to know how it feels."

Then she snapped his neck so they no longer owed each other anything.

\

Hope had looked everywhere in her room. She'd gone through the drawers, combed through her closet, and even pulled everything from the bed. Whatever Leah had left her the night before was nowhere to be found.

Already feeling utterly useless, she now simply felt stupid.

There was a sudden noise from the main room. Turning her head toward the hall, she was able to pick up the slightest sound with her supernatural hearing.

It was a soft electronic whirl. Someone was opening the front door.

Hope pulled up short as she cautiously came around the corner just as Leah kicked the door closed behind her.

"Hey, you," she cooed, tossing a plastic card on the table. "Let me guess – home alone."

"Where did you get that?" she pointed to the key. "Yours is still in your room."

"The blonde at the front desk. Elijah was right – she is rather accommodating."

Hope was left to wonder in dread what that meant. There was a dark red splash on her friend's collar that had barely begun to dry. She grabbed her dad's phone, but Leah was instantly in her face.

"Who are you calling?" she menaced.

"What? No one, I'm just – Leah, _stop_!"

She had snatched the phone away in a supersonic blur, just as quickly crushing it in her hand like a soda can.

Hope watched the pieces fall to the ground in shock.

"What did you do that for?!"

"_Who were you calling?_ Your mother?"

"No, I was letting Klaus know you were back. Leah, please. Just sit down with me and wait for him and Elijah to return."

"_You_ sit down – and stay out of my way. I'm looking for something…and I _know_ it's here."

Leah took off down the hall toward the master bedroom but Hope was still frozen with uncertainty. She fell back on the couch, lacing her fingers tightly in front of her mouth as told herself to calm down and _think._

It was hard to with all the noise. From her parents' room there came a series of odd thumps, then various knocks and bangs until something large crashed to the floor with the sound of shattering glass.

The cacophony began to move closer, passing through every room until Leah reemerged in a panic.

"It's not here! _Where is it?!"_

She didn't even wait for Hope to try to even guess. Leah took to the kitchen now, opening and closing the cabinets, pulling out cups and dishes and dropping them unceremoniously on the counter as she continued her search.

Some bounced harmlessly on the marble counter top. Some missed the ledge completely and smashed onto the floor.

Hope rose from her seat as the pile began to grow. Her friend didn't seem to realize she was standing in a pile of glass.

"Leah. please tell me what you're looking for. Please let me help you."

Her foot had barely come down on the tile floor when a mug came flying at her face.

"_Sit down_, Hope. I'm _warning_ you."

Leah had one hand on the cabinet door and a knife now in the other.

Hope gulped.

She slowly began to backtrack out of the kitchen until her calves hit the cushion and she sank down onto the couch once again. Her eyes, however, never left Leah, not even when she tossed the knife aside and yanked out the utensil drawer in its entirety.

She felt the first tear as the silverware clattered to the floor.

"Leah…please. Stop. You're scaring me."

Her plea was ignored. Leah was too invested in tearing out the bins in the refrigerator. She pulled out the blood bags one at a time, and finding nothing underneath at the bottom crushed one with such anger it exploded in her hand.

Coming to her feet, she wiped the blood down the front of her jeans.

"I know it's here," she told herself, pulling at her hair in frustration. She now grabbed the handle to the freezer and began to toss out everything inside – which wasn't much: a tray of ice, a roll of popsicles and a frozen box of apple pie.

Slamming the door, Leah stared down at the box with a wicked smile.

She started laughing, delirious with relief. _Finally._

"Holy shit - get a load of _this_."

"Of what, Leah? It's a pie. It's been in there forever. I don't even think it's ours."

"No," she said sarcastically, "because why on earth would the Brady Bunch of vampires have something so nauseatingly normal as apple pie in their fridge - _especially_ when you don't even like apples?"

"I hate them."

"And no one knows it more than Klaus Mikaelson, am I right?"

From within the hollowed box, Leah pulled out the White Oak stake.

"Or am I right?" she smirked.

Hope went pale. She leapt from the sofa and threw up her hands.

"Put it back. Just put it back – _please_."

"That's not how this game works," Leah tutted, tossing the empty box to the ground. "I cannot even _begin_ to tell you how happy I am that this didn't take all night. When Elijah didn't have it on him, boy was I was really worried this was going to turn into the world's worst game of hide and seek."

"Elijah," Hope sputtered. "You…you ran into Elijah?"

"Of course. He tried to come and save me. Predictably."

With horror, Hope realized the blood on Leah's shirt might not actually be Bridgette's.

Leah made a move toward the door but Hope immediately ran to cut her off.

"Where's Elijah?" she demanded, trying desperately to stall.

"How am I supposed to know? Probably still in an alley someplace – which, by the way, is exactly where he belongs. Piece of trash snapped my neck."

Hope took a depth breathe, telling herself to keep calm. So Leah had the stake. So she was trying to leave with it. So if she did she'd take it straight to Mikael.

So what?

None of that was going to happen; she wasn't going to let it.

"Give it to me," she stepped forward, making her demand face to face. "Hand over the stake or you're going to force me to take it from you."

"Well, I would certainly love to see you –"

Hope made a grab for it... but ended up on the ground, flat on her back, stars bursting in her eyes as her head slammed against the floor. She winced in pain as Leah knelt over her smugly.

"You're an _idiot _if you thought that would work."

Raising her arm up high, she brought the White Oak down like a bolt of lightning. It buried itself deep in the carpet, and whether that had been her intention or she simply missed Hope didn't hesitate a second to find out.

She threw her weight into the other hybrid and sent her toppling backwards. Hope's hands were shaking slightly as she held them aloft defensively.

"Okay, okay," she panted, trying to use conversation to keep Leah distracted. "I won't do that again – I won't try to stop you from leaving, but that means you have to _fight_ this, Leah. You have to realize whatever you are feeling right now is not really you – you don't want this."

As she talked she was scanning the room, looking for something to use as a weapon. Leah still had the stake in her hand and was clearly willing to use it.

Hope saw the knife glimmer at her from the floor.

They both moved at full vampire speed, but she went for it just as she realized Leah was was going for the door. So with no time to do anything else, Hope hurled the knife full across the room.

Leah howled as the steel cleaved through the flesh of her shoulder. Her hand fell from the door as she reeled in pain, the White Oak stake dropping to the ground. It rolled toward Hope, who snatched it up at hyper speed and sped to the far wall.

She now held the stake defensively in front of her.

"I don't want to hurt you, Leah, but you can't leave with this. I won't let you."

Pulling the knife from her back, Leah pointed the bloody dagger at Hope in a rage.

"You Mikaelsons are nothing but a pain in the ass. No wonder Mikael wants you all dead."

Hope flinched as Leah's eyes flashed amber and gold.

Oh, she was in trouble now.

"Leah…"

"I will rip that stake out of your hands if you don't hand it over now!"

"Okay...or...why don't we just talk about… _Leah, NO!_"

Hope barely evaded the knife as it came spinning through the air. It buried itself in the window behind her, creating a fissure that ran from ceiling to floor. By the time she had reacted to the fact that the window could have been her head, Leah was already reaching for the lamp...

"I'm gonna warn you. I am _really_ good a dodge ball."

She raised her arm to hurl the lamp and never saw it coming, never heard the door opening behind her or Hope's gasp of relief; the crack of her neck was so loud you would have thought the window had finally shattered.

The lamp rolled out of Leah's limp hand as she collapsed back into Hayley's arms.

"Are you okay," she looked up at her daughter. "_Hope, are you okay?"_

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she sighed, holding the stake to her heaving chest. "Relatively speaking."

"Then we need to call your father. He's gonna want to know the other shoe has dropped."


	48. The Ties That Bind

Hayley brushed off her hands before setting them firmly on her hips and sighing. She had a feeling that heaving Leah's body onto the couch had been the easy part.

"Crossing my fingers she's sane when she wakes."

"But is she going to be okay?" Hope asked anxiously.

"The girl tries to hurl a lamp at you and you're asking if _she's_ okay?"

"Leah didn't mean it. She's not herself."

"Doesn't mean she won't have to pay for what she's done."

"Oh," Hope cringed. "You mean the room…"

That was definitely not what Hayley had meant, but she followed her daughter's gaze around the suite, noting the damage.

"Your father's not going to be happy. Did you call him?"

"With what? My phone's a handful of Legos, remember?"

Hope bent down to sweep up the pieces from the floor, taking a moment to pathetically try to shove them back together before realizing they were ultimately destined for the trash.

"Well, technically _Dad's_ phone's a handful of Legos. Gonna toss it."

"Wait," Hayley reached out, grabbing her daughter's arm. "You're hurt - you're _bleeding_."

Hope saw what her mother was referencing and vigorously shook her head.

"No, no, no, don't freak out. That's not_ my_ blood."

"Tell me right now what Leah did to you."

"_Not _my blood," Hope had to repeat. "Really, I'm fine. We tussled and Leah must have painted me, that's all."

Hayley arched a brow in suspicion.

"Tussled?"

"Fine, _fought_. Before the lamp, there was...other stuff aimed at me."

"Hope, I can't help you if you lie to me. _Did Leah try to stake you?"_

"No, _no!_ No..."

Hope was trying her hardest to work a poker face. She was failing miserably.

"No," she said again, this time with confidence. "Leah _didn't_."

Yet she scampered away to avoid more questions. Her mother could always tell when she was lying, but honestly, it hadn't been a lie. Leah hadn't really been aiming to stake her – she had missed. On purpose, Hope was sure of it.

Sort of.

Maybe not.

After tossing the phone she realized it wasn't the only thing that was broken. Suddenly the chaos of the ransacked kitchen seemed overwhelming; every shattered plate and upturned drawer seemed to mock the mess her life had become.

I mean, for the love of God, her best friend had tried to kill her!

So much for denying it.

Puffing out her cheeks in frustration, Hope picked up one of the unsmashed plates and set it back in the cabinet, as if all her world needed was a little reordering and then everything would back to normal, like it had been before.

Her mother, as mothers do, sensed her despondency and was instantly at her side. Hayley leaned against the counter, crossing her arms knowingly.

"This is probably not going to help, but it could be worse."

"You're right – that didn't help."

She slammed another plate down in the cabinet, but her mother calmed her anxiety, reaching out with an understanding hand. Tilting up her daughter's chin, she looked at Hope proudly.

"You did well back there, stalling Leah. You might have just saved your father's life."

"Well, if he'd hidden the stake somewhere legit_ \- _and not in the_ freezer -_ I wouldn't have had to _knife_ my best friend in the back._"_

"Ooh, it was in the pie, wasn't it? God, your father thinks he's so smart..."

"Too bad Leah's smarter."

Hope closed the cabinet door, holding onto the handle as she remembered something important.

"Speaking of Dad, did he find Elijah?"

Hayley blanked; this was news to her.

"I _just_ left Elijah. What do you mean 'found him,' where is he?"

"I don't know, but it sounded like he might have run into some trouble. Well, run into Leah. I think she said she left him in an alley?"

"Some alley in New York? Great that narrows it down."

A phone suddenly started ringing – which was startling because Hope's was in pieces and Hayley didn't have one.

It was coming from the couch.

"Does she…?"

"Not unless she stole it," Hope shrugged.

Almost cautiously, Hayley approached Leah, rolling her over slightly to slip the sleek black mobile from the pocket of her jeans. Sharing a confused look with her daughter, she checked the name on the screen before accepting the call.

"I'm going to take a wild guess that this isn't Philippe."

"And you're not my brother. Why do you have his phone?"

"You didn't find him?"

"No… and thus the purpose of me _calling_ him, Hayley. Where are you now?"

"Back at the hotel with Hope."

"And not with Elijah like I requested."

"Trust me, Hope needed me more. Leah came back. She went after the stake."

"She did WHAT? _Is Hope _–"

"She's fine, Klaus. Leah didn't try to use it on her."

Hayley nodded toward Hope as she repeated her daughter's lie. They shared a look of understanding: on the other end of the line, her father didn't need to know.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled. "Could this night get any worse?"

"You did not just say that."

"Where's the stake now?"

"You mean the all-powerful White Oak stake that you hid in the _freezer, _Klaus?!"

"Yes, that one, _Hayley, _who has it now?"

"I do. Leah's out cold."

"Good. Keep her that way. I've sent someone over who knows what they're doing."

"What the hell does that –?"

He'd hung up on her abruptly. Hayley masked her genuine worry with a thin grin as she put on a good show for Hope.

"Well, I was going to wish your father good luck, but he seems to have it under control," she said sarcastically.

"Who's he sending over?"

Right on cue there was a knock at the door; Hayley really hoped it wasn't housekeeping. She peered through the peer hole, only opening it when she recognized Philippe.

She had no idea, however, who the second guy was. Philippe was accompanied by a short, brown-skinned witch in a black and gold kurta, a long sort of tunic that flowed as he walked through the door.

"And you are?" she immediately stopped him.

"Hayley," Philippe introduced them, "this is Sankar, a member of the Canal Street coven and an old friend of mine."

"I am happy to finally meet you, Ms. Marshall."

"Ugh, no," she said automatically. "Just call me Hayley and get in here."

She kept a suspicious eye on Sankar as she waved him through.

"So," she interrogated him. "Klaus has been telling me he's been working with some witch doctor to figure out what's wrong with Leah. You him?"

"It's a bit of a joke," Philippe jumped in. "Sankar practices medicine uptown but he is also an extremely respected elder in the downtown coven."

"Great," Hayley quipped. "Two for the price of one. I guess then you're here to ward up the hotel or whatever. Do I need to get you like, salt, or something, or are you good, doc?"

Sankar absorbed her wary antagonism with earnest patience.

"No, nothing needed. I practice a type of magic I learned in my country. It is solely based on faith."

_"__Faith?"_ she scoffed in disbelief. "That's magic?"

"Of course," he explained sincerely. "If you believe it, it will be."

"Sankar's a traditionalist," Philippe clarified, "but very skilled and knowledgeable in many types of magic."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Hayley muttered.

And then she saw it. The door shimmered as if the air in front of it had momentarily turned to water.

"What was that?" she looked up wildly.

"That was your proof," Sankar said. "That's your protection spell."

"Already?" she gawked, staring at the door still. "But you didn't _do_ anything."

"I believed it so…and it was."

None of this made Hayley any more confident in Dr. Feelgood, the faith practitioner.

"Okay, _Sankar_ \- you might be able to do some high-class hocus-pocus, but what do you know about ancestral magic?"

"You mean the type of magic that is in your Ms. St. Ann?"

The room suddenly got very quiet as if a second wave of magic had stilled the air. Taking a tentative step forward, Sankar looked backed for permission.

"Is that her there? May I?"

Hayley didn't really know what else to do besides nod. She watched with curious distrust as the witch approached the couch, taking a seat on the very edge so he could lean in close to Leah.

She was still unconscious, her head forced back at a sharp angle as it lolled against the armrest. Bringing his hands forward, the witch ghosted them across her sleeping face before placing them both on the side of her head. He closed his eyes in deep contemplation as if studying the pages of a book.

"She is a hybrid," he announced at length, "with a witch mother, a werewolf father - interesting indeed."

Hayley wasn't sure if that was a question or not.

"I would have thought Klaus filled you in on the basics."

"You are a hybrid too," he stated warmly, although he was now looking at Hope. She'd been quiet so far, holding back in the kitchen as she studied the newcomer and tried to judge him for his worth. He must have felt that she'd been eyeing him frostily because he was clearly now trying to earn her trust.

She came forward to stand protectively by Leah's head.

"I'm Hope. Hope Mikaelson."

"You are friends with Ms. St. Ann?"

"She's my best friend. She's like a sister."

"I would say. Your friend here is just as much a supernatural marvel as you."

"Her name is _Leah_," Hope insisted. "Help her."

She had realized she didn't have a choice when it came to trusting the stranger. There was only so much she and her mother could hide from Klaus; sooner or later he would find out just how close she'd come to being staked. It was therefore undeniable; either Leah broke free from Mikael or her dad was going to kill her.

"Hope Mikaelson, that is what I am here to do," the witch nodded. "I have studied up on this…Harvest ritual, native to your hometown, is that right?"

"The magic in Leah – it's been there since she was born. She's just…holding it, for the French Quarter witches.

"She's doing more than that it appears. She's powering their spells."

"I know. The witches connected her to Mikael, Klaus'…my granddad."

"A complicated family."

"You have no idea."

She could tell he was trying his best to put her at ease, not that it was really working. Her hands were fidgeting nervously; feeling useless they sought something to do – to help.

As she continued to hover over her Leah, she set about gently moving the tangled strands of her red hair aside so they fell more gracefully around her face.

But she stopped, growing unsettled; Leah now looked too peaceful, and it didn't look like she was sleeping anymore.

Hope realized she was upsetting herself, jumping to the worst of conclusions. _Everything is going to be fine_, she repeated, _everything is going to be fine_.

Sankar had Leah by the wrist as if checking her pulse. He looked up thoughtfully.

"You seem disquiet, Ms. Mikaelson."

"Hope. Call me Hope, and I'm just worried for my friend. None of this seems fair. It's her magic; she was born with it. Just because Leah can't use it anymore, shouldn't mean the witches of New Orleans have a claim to it. They can't use people like this."

"No," he shook his head, sympathetic, but troubled, "but they have. Masterfully."

"What does that mean?" Hope frowned.

He paused, leaning back in his seat.

"Perhaps Leah should be awake before I say anything more. Until then, how about I find your lost uncle, Hope Mikaelson?"

"You know Elijah's missing?"

"When I touched her, Leah was dreaming. When you dream you are an open book. I simply had to read."

"You're a creep," Hayley rolled her eyes, grabbing a tourist map from the table in the foyer. "But if you can really find Elijah I'm willing to look past it."

She barged by, unfolding the map across the kitchen island. Sankar stepped up to it eagerly.

"I believe a standard locator spell will do. If Leah is out, there's no fear of interference at the moment. All I need is a trace."

He looked over at Hope expectantly.

"Wait…me? I don't even know what a trace is!"

"It's a drop of your blood," Philippe explained. "A trace is what you need to do a locator spell and you are the only one here in anyway related to Elijah."

Nodding in understanding, Hope nipped her finger on the edge of a fang. She let it bleed onto the glossy surface of the map. The single splotch hovered randomly over 96th and Broadway.

Sankar closed his eyes, hand upturned momentarily. Without a word from the witch the spot began to move across the page slowly, and then faster, until it stopped at the lower end of the large green block.

And then before their eyes, the single dot of blood divided into two.

"So…" Hope stared at Sankar doubtfully. "Does that mean it didn't work?"

"No need to worry, Ms. Mikaelson. The spell has simply decided to track your uncle via magic, not blood. It was more efficient that way."

"What do you mean 'by magic'? Elijah can't do magic."

"All Original vampires carry the magic of their creation in their veins. Your father passed this trace to you."

"Okay... then can someone tell me why there's _three_ dots on the map if there's _two_ Originals in the city?"

Hope was right. One of the drops of blood had divided. They all watched as the three dots now crept slowly down the map, passing through the park and swinging west toward the Hudson - until they finally came to rest at the exact same spot.


	49. Of Human Bondage

Klaus turned down a dim and narrow street, nearly chucking his phone at the brick wall in frustration.

Another dead-end. Literally.

Where the bloody hell was his brother? Didn't Elijah realize this was not the time for long soul-searching walks? If he wanted to question everything about his life he could at least return to the hotel to do it.

Klaus tried another alley, then a third, then a tenth. God, how he missed the tiny streets of New Orleans! He paused momentarily, hoping to sense a lead, but the city in the summer smelled stale all around and all the noise of human life made it hard for him to hear.

He was therefore just about to give up and try another avenue entirely when he managed to pick up the sounds of shuffling from the far end of the road. Catching sight of his brother, Klaus mumbled some words of genuine relief. When he moved closer, however, he frowned.

"Elijah, what the bloody hell are you doing?"

He was pacing before the brick wall steadily, halting every moment or so whenever he changed his mind or direction, obviously debating something though only with himself.

His appearance was just as bizarre as his behavior. Klaus couldn't overlook all the blood Elijah was wearing; beneath his ruined jacket, his shirt was crimson with just a smattering of white. His hands were coated red as well and it was clear the stake he now fisted had been all too recently dug from his own chest.

When his eyes landed on the werewolf bite, Klaus quickly surmised what had happened to Elijah.

"Considering something important?" he grumbled. "Reality, perhaps?"

It was a moment before his brother seemed to even realize he was there.

"Niklaus," he looked up, ruefully surprised. "I... did not see you there."

"Yes, clearly. What's going on in that head of yours, brother... or do I even want to know?"

"The young lady who stayed the night - Hope's friend, from school - what do you know about her?"

Klaus blinked, shifting through five years worth of memories to find any clue of what his brother was talking about. When he finally recalled the conversation they had shared at the plantation house, he couldn't help but pity him. There was something tragically poetic about Elijah hallucinating the day he first met the woman who'd just tried to kill him.

"Bloody hell, the irony. You really need me of all people to tell you about Leah?"

"Leah, yes. That was her name. Simply fascinating - don't you agree?"

Klaus sighed; this conversation had been unbearable the first time around. He bit into his wrist.

"Come along, brother. Let's get you sorted. Then I'll tell you all about Leah St. Ann."

/

_"Klaus, where are you?"_

"Not far enough away you need to shout, Hayley. I found Elijah. I'll be back at the hotel as soon as he's on his feet again."

"Good, because Mikael is - wait, what happened to Elijah?"

"He's been bitten. I'm giving him my blood now."

"It was Leah, wasn't it."

"Well, you know what they say: hell hath no fury like a woman linked to a violent resurrected vampire. Stay with Hope. I'll be there soon."

Ending the call, Klaus tossed the phone aside to help his brother.

"Steady there now. Give yourself a moment to recover."

But Elijah shrugged him off, his pride having suffered quite enough already. Fortunately, the effects of Leah's hybrid venom were quickly leaving his system and he no longer thought it was that bright sunny afternoon in September when Leah had first come into his life.

Unfortunately.

He rolled out his shoulders but the tension remained.

"Well that was excruciatingly embarrassing."

"Which part?" Klaus muttered, "or do we even have the time to run through that list?"

His brother fixed him with a humorless stare as he cleaned his hands on the silk of his pocket square.

"Believe me, Niklaus, it was not my intention to make a fool of myself."

"I can only imagine how Leah managed it."

"Then don't," Elijah said stiffly. "Let us simply return to the hotel - preferably in silence."

He took off down the street, their hurried steps echoing as Klaus hustled to catch up.

"You're awfully eager to leap out of the frying pan. Don't you want to know how hot the fire is?"

"Your complacency leads me to believe you found Leah."

"And she found the White Oak stake."

_"She what_? Where is she now?"

"At the hotel," he paused. "Hayley knocked her out – which_ trust me_ – is how you'd prefer her at the moment. Mikael's showing all his cards when it comes to Leah. God knows what he'll have her do next."

"I'm going to kill him," his brother stated as a fact. "I will drive that stake through his heart."

"I appreciate the enthusiasm," Klaus chuckled dismissively. "Come on, let's go."

"No," Elijah grabbed his arm, staring him down cold. "Swear it to me now, Niklaus, that you will not deny me this."

/

Hayley hated when Klaus just hung up - especially when she was trying to actually warn him.

"What's wrong?" Hope wanted to know. "Is it Mikael? Did he find them?"

Even as she said nothing, Hayley's actions spoke loudly. She touched the stake in her pocket, wavering and doubting but ultimately deciding what she had to do.

"Okay, new plan," she announced. "Hope, you're going to stay here with Philippe and…his weird witch friend. Philippe, if Leah wakes up and I'm not back yet - snap her neck. Don't risk it, don't hesitate, just do it. I'm going to go help Klaus and Elijah."

"You can't leave," Hope rushed forward. "You could be walking into a trap! And what about Leah?"

"She's right," Philippe agreed. "Give the stake to me and let me go instead. Mikael doesn't know I'm alive; he won't be expecting me. I'm a vampire now. I'll be fast and I'll find them. Stay here with Hope - with Leah, and let me do this for you."

After a moment of hesitation, Hayley reluctantly passed over the White Oak stake.

"I am trusting you," she looked him in the eye. "Do not make me regret this."

"I owe Klaus my life. You have nothing to fear."

/

Klaus opened his mouth but realized he didn't have anything to say; between the two of them, he was usually the juggernaut of bloodthirsty rage. He knew, however, that his brother was deadly serious - he could feel it in the desperate way Elijah gripped his arm.

"You'll have your revenge," Klaus clasped his shoulder. "We all will."

The solemnity of that quiet oath was quickly interrupted.

"What a beautiful moment. Truly, I am touched."

A shadow of a man stood imposing, the rumble of his harsh laughter causing the hairs on the back of Klaus' neck to bristle with aggression.

Beside him, his brother's face had turned just as feral. Elijah pushed forward, stake in hand, as he squared off against his father.

_"You."_

Mikael stepped forward. He was smartly dressed, as hawk-eyed and cutthroat as any high-flying suit in the City. The arrogant smugness of his expression completed the look.

"Greetings, my son. I apologize for my long absence. What have I missed?"

Klaus had to hold Elijah back. With a sharp look he reminded his brother to be smart about this.

There were deeper motives at play; he tried to bait them out of Mikael.

"And not even a 'hello' for the bastard? So much for a thousand years of meaningless hatred."

"Quiet, boy. I am not here for you. You're not even supposed to be here."

"Well, now I'm proper hurt," Klaus glowered. "But that's my brother, always the popular one."

"Your _brother_ is the only reason I haven't destroyed you sooner. For centuries he has been a constant presence in your miserable life. How it must _exhaust_ him."

"A thousand years says he doesn't much mind."

"Is that so?" Mikael laughed. "Do you take me for a fool? This brotherhood you boast is a farce. I have been watching the two of you - for weeks. The frightened boy, lost without his brother as he plays at being patriarch...and the noble one, who abandoned his own blood for a _harlot_."

"Don't listen to him," Klaus pushed Elijah back. "He's trying to get in your head."

"Oh, I quite think I'm in there already, as I'm already inside Leah's. I see why you're so fond of her, my son. So lovely indeed. So _obedient_."

The subtle lewdness of his smirk pushed Elijah over the edge. He broke away from Klaus and lunged at his father - only to fall through thin air. Mikael's speed was only matched by his cruelty, and he mocked his son's efforts as he appeared at his back.

"A bit peaky, my boy? Then Leah did well. My, what big teeth she has."

"If you have touched her," Elijah snarled, "I will rip every _limb_ from your body."

"Save your chivalry. Unlike you I refuse to sully myself with the company of mongrels."

"Then if you boast such _honor_, release Leah from your vile servitude."

"You are in no position to make demands," Mikael threatened.

"He's bluffing," Klaus growled. "He doesn't have the White Oak stake."

"Keep your toy for now. You won't dare use it against me. Shall I demonstrate why?"

\

"I think she's waking up."

Hope's voice drew Hayley from her thoughts. She turned away from the wide window. She had been staring out it, wondering where Klaus was, where Elijah was – and if Philippe had already passed off the White Oak stake.

Sankar was now perpendicular to the couch. He'd given up his seat to Hope, relocating to the armchair and pulling it in closer to maintain a careful watch on Leah.

Sure enough, she was stirring, but not pleasantly at all. Leah lurched to the side, pulling her knees to her chest like a terrified child as she slightly shook, her eyes squeezed tight against the bright light of reality.

She was hiding, and for the longest time she refused to come out. Hope tried to coax her, but she remained curled up the couch, her fingers locked in her hair as she pulled at the roots in some inexplicable delirium.

Hayley came forward cautiously, taking her daughter's arm and gently leading her away.

"Better safe than sorry," she reasoned.

"Don't be ridiculous," Hope protested, shaking her mother off angrily. "Look at her! She's more of a threat to herself than to me."

At the moment, she was right. Leah appeared to be in a battle with her own body. Her hands shook as she fisted them so hard her nails were biting into her palms.

She didn't seem to realize she was drawing blood.

Unwilling to let Leah injure herself further, Sankar intervened. Leaning out of his chair he placed his hands on either side of her neck. She shuddered at the contact but seemed to instantly settle.

"What did you do?" Hope demanded.

"General sedation, but it's only temporary."

"You can't do anything else? She's in pain!"

"Unfortunately not until I understand why."

For all his years of experience, Sankar was unsure; there was no physical reason for Leah's suffering. This was surely a level of mental manipulation he had never before seen. It was one thing to read about such things, to hear about them from others, but despite his calm persona the witch's mind was racing to figure out exactly what was wrong with his patient.

She was certainly a fighter, and perhaps that was the problem.

"Leah, can you hear me?" he called to her loudly. "I know you are scared but I need you to listen. Your mind is being bombarded by the influence of magic; someone is trying to force your will. The more you resist the worse you will feel. There is a temporary solution, but I need you first to give in."

"Are you crazy?" Hayley rushed him. "That's the last thing she should do!"

"Ms. Marshall, you and your daughter need to trust that I know what I am doing."

Hope tried to rejoin Leah but was quickly pulled back.

"No way," Hayley warned her. "You stay here with me."

"_Get off of me_ \- I will do what I will do, and I will _not _stand around like you and do _nothing_ while Leah is still fighting!"

But Hope had spoken too soon. From the couch there came a strangled cry and the sound of squelching blood.

Everyone in the room shared identical looks of horror.

For unable to disobey any longer, Leah had plunged her own hand into her chest and grabbed her beating heart.

**End of Part 6**


	50. Cat's Cradle

**Part 7**

It was the three longest seconds of Hope's life.

She could cry out and do nothing more; her mother's grip was like iron on her arm as they watched Leah's hand disappear through fabric and skin and bone. Only Sankar with his professional detachment was able to recover fast enough to prevent a premature tragedy.

He snapped his fingers and Leah slumped forward, a rag doll posed in a single terrifying moment. She had been rendered unconscious so quickly her hand was still buried between her breasts; the witch had to slowly – carefully – pull it forth to make sure her heart didn't come out with it.

Hope didn't breathe the entire time he operated. It wasn't until Sankar nodded the all clear that she dropped her hands from her mouth.

"Did you...is she...?

"We'll let her rest for a while," he said standing, "but her body's already healing itself."

The relief Hope felt nearly knocked her off her feet. She sank onto the armrest and stared down at Leah, once again out cold on the couch.

She immediately took back all the doubts she'd had about the witch.

"Thank you, Sankar," Hope told him breathlessly. "Thank you for saving my friend."

"I am not a miracle worker. It is only temporary."

"But whatever you did. You just saved her life."

"What exactly _did_ you do?" Hayley asked. Her question, for once, lacked suspicion and was bursting with genuine concern. When it came to Leah she wasn't completely heartless, so it bothered her to no end that Hope had written her off as such. She was a mother after all, not a monster.

"And is she going to be alright for now?" she added in earnest.

"I've put her under," Sankar explained. "It will buy us some time."

"And you couldn't have knocked her out sooner? Like maybe _before_ she tried to axe herself?"

"Leah was resisting the influence of magic without discretion. She was blocking me as much as Mikael. I needed her to give in to both."

"Then that's one hell of a chance you just took," she warned him.

"A close call, yes. Fortunately, Mikael has no power over Leah in this state."

"But why would he do this to her? What is he trying to prove?"

"I'm not sure. What I do know, however, is that he will likely try again."

Hope shook her head, rising from her seat with angry determination.

"Then we won't give him the chance. You all may not let me out there to fight Mikael, but I'll be damned if I let him win. So, tell me how I can help, Sankar, and I'll do it, because we're going to set Leah free _tonight_."

/

"Keep your toy for now," Mikael postured grandly. "You won't dare use it against me. Shall I demonstrate why?"

"Was that a rhetorical question?" Klaus sneered. "Or is this simply another desperate attempt to buy some time before I decide to see if you can still talk without a head?"

"You never change, do you, Niklaus? You bark and bark and never do bite. But if you still think I am bluffing - call it. Call _her_ \- that bitch of a hybrid always at your heel, the one who looks after your _whelp_. Let her convince you of my power."

"What have you done?" Elijah asked horrified.

"I've simply requested your little _pet_ bring me a heart. Now we shall all witness how truly well she _fetches_."

Instantly Klaus' defiance evaporated into dread. His jaw was clenched so tightly no words could come out since his heart was stuck somewhere in his throat.

_Hope._

Hope was with Leah.

He scrambled to retrieve his phone and couldn't even look his brother in the eye as he raised it to his ear.

The call connected.

"Klaus?"

"Hayley."

On both ends it was clear something had happen. They spoke barely above a whisper, hushed with great hesitation; it was like conversing at a funeral with the widow in the room.

The air was filled with the oppressive weight of foreboding.

"Klaus, where are you?"

"Don't ask questions," he warned her. "Don't speak unless to answer - do you understand?"

"Klaus, what's going -"

_"Do you understand, Hayley?"_

A beat.

"Yes."

"Is Hope safe?"

"Yes."

_Thank the bloody Lord._

"And Leah?"

A moment of silence. Elijah's heart felt like lead in his chest.

Klaus asked again for him.

"And Leah, Hayley? Tell me! Tell me what she did."

"She...she tried to rip her own heart out."

_Tried._ Five letters had never made Elijah so emotional. His relief was like cold water thrown onto a fire; instantly all his rage sputtered into abject resignation. As long as Mikael had this control over Leah, he had won without lifting a finger.

Klaus was still on the line, but he had heard all he needed to hear.

"Don't leave that hotel for anything. And protect Hope - by whatever means necessary. Tell me you understand what that means, Hayley."

"I do – and I'll do it, Klaus."

He ended the call only to confront the look of betrayal on his brother's face.

/

Sweeping away the remnants of the locator spell, they laid out Leah in the kitchen. Hope had her legs, Sankar her shoulders, and together they set her gently down on the center island.

Hayley returned from down the hall where she had taken the call in private. She had wanted to give her daughter some space after the earlier tension and was glad she had; Klaus' mandate was still in the forefront of her mind and the last thing she wanted was Hope knowing she was under orders to kill Leah if necessary.

Not that it was ever going to come to that. She had only really agreed because Klaus had sounded like the world would end if she didn't say yes. Wherever he was, it was clear he wasn't coming back anytime soon. How had he even known to ask about Leah?

Had Elijah been with him? Had Philippe?

_Had Mikael?_

"Mom, are you going to help?" Hope called over.

"What do you need me to do?" she jogged up.

"Move some of this stuff out of the way. We're tripping over everything."

The kitchen was still a disaster. There were smashed plates under their feet and everything else one finds in cabinets was not in the cabinets but littered the floor.

Once they had cleared some space, Sankar was better able to get to work. He stood at the short end of the island, hovering over Leah as he set his hands once more on either side of her head.

"What are you looking for?" Hope leaned in.

"Confirmation. To break her bond to Mikael we must sever the magic linking them."

"So what do you have to confirm?"

"The quickest way to do that...which appears to be the only way."

He stood back, his examination concluded. There was a disquieting crinkle in the corners of his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Hope asked worried. "What did you find?"

"This bond, between your grandfather and your friend, it is more than just a link. It is a lifeline."

"And what does that mean?"

His silence was deliberate.

"We need to wake her up," he said suddenly.

Knowing what she did, Hayley had to step in.

"You wake her up, she's fair game for Mikael."

"Yes, I am aware. And there is also the possibility I won't be able to put her under again. But the conversation I need to have with all of you is too important for her not to be a part of it."

"A conversation? About what?"

Again he didn't answer, but snapping his fingers Leah's eyes fluttered open.

"Hello again, Leah St. Ann."

She was staring at the ceiling, completely calm, completely still. When she frowned it was more of a pout.

"I think that's a fork digging into my back."

Hope left herself smile - she knew that sarcastic tone.

_Leah was back._

"You're okay! Leah, you're okay!"

"Am I?" she winced, raising herself onto an elbow. "I feel like hell. Whoa, _whoa_, what happened?"

Looking down, she had noticed her blue button-up was now red. Touching the spot over her heart gingerly, her memories started to catch up with her.

_"Oh my God."_

"Leah, calm down, just breathe."

"No, no, not breathing. Panicking. Oh my God. Holy _shit._"

"Leah, _please_, calm down! Sankar's here to help you."

She passed her eyes from Hope to Hayley to the only one she didn't recognize.

Immediately at least.

"I remember you..."

"Good," the witch nodded, skipping past formalities. "What else? How far back into the day can you recall?"

It seemed like an odd question until she actually gave it a try. Everything was fuzzy and some memories were simply not there.

She did, however, remember Elijah in the alley. Vividly.

"No...no, what did I do? _What did I do?"_

"We don't have time to dwell," Sankar said. "I only ask because I need to know if your link is currently active. Only when it is can you remember what he's forced you to do."

"My what? Wait - _who_?"

"Mikael," Hope squeezed her hand. "Leah, the witches of New Orleans linked you to Mikael. It happened when they used you to resurrect him on my birthday."

"Those words did not just come out of your mouth."

"It's true," Hayley threw in, speeding this along, "so it's in everyone's interest that you listen to the good doctor here and let him break your link."

"Especially," Sankar revealed, "if Mikael's life is linked to yours more literally than we had assumed."

/

Elijah stood between Mikael and his brother. In that moment it was impossible to know whom he hated more.

Klaus was not looking forward to fighting a war on two fronts.

"Peace, brother. It had to be done."

"_Peace?_ You just signed the warrant for Leah's execution!"

"I can't let her kill Hope," he defended himself.

"There are other solutions than _murder_, Niklaus! Other options -"

"We are _well_ past the point of options, Elijah!"

In the ringing silence that followed, the alley began to echo with the sound of Mikael's hollow applause.

This was rich theater.

"If only we were in Philadelphia, how deliciously ironic this would be!"

In a flash, Elijah had him against the wall, fangs bared, stake raised -

"Strike and she's dead," was all Mikael had to say.

The stake fell from Elijah's hand as he slunk back wretchedly.

"And the other weapon, drop it."

Klaus watched in tense silence as his brother pulled the silver dagger from deep within his jacket. It clattered to the ground as Elijah dropped it, grinding out his words like broken glass.

"Are you satisfied, _father_, with your victory?"

"You can't possibly imagine," Mikael grinned.

/

Leah felt a headache coming on.

"Are you trying to tell me the reason I've been going Memento for weeks is because I'm a walking, talking vessel for _magic_?"

"Residual Harvest magic," Sankar nodded.

"No, I was done with that. That entire freak show was shut down years ago. No way, I don't want this. Get rid of it. Take it out - remove it."

"It's not that simple."

"Yes, it is - you just said. Remove the magic, remove the link. Boom, done. I'm free - no longer a slave to some psycho who wants me to kill everyone I care about... everyone I love."

She was still gripping Hope's hand but her thoughts were now on Elijah. Tonight was really giving last night a complete run for its money. It didn't help that everything that had happened in Elijah's suite was the last sure thing she remembered; all that anger now seemed like wasted emotion.

All those hours just seemed like wasted time.

Leah felt nauseous. She wasn't sure if it was because she was remembering what her own heart had felt like in her hand or the fact that Elijah was somewhere out there now in those dark streets injured and poisoned and hunted by Mikael.

"Sankar, I swear to God, get this fucking magic out of me."

"It's not that simple."

"Why do you keep saying that? It is - you either can or you can't."

"Leah, you were born with that magic inside of you. The magic of the Harvest is as much a part of you as the cadence of your voice or the color of your hair. In fact, there's a chance it has absorbed even the magic of the transition that turned you into a hybrid. Your immortal life may be dependent on this decision."

"_May?_ You're not even sure, are you? You don't even know!"

"We don't have time to know. We have to guess and go from there."

"If you're talking about my _life_, then trust me we have time."

"Not if Mikael has found the others," Sankar said gravely.

No one had even thought it possible for him to become any more serious.

"Leah St. Ann," he started up slowly, "there is something you need to know, and I say it in the presence of everyone here but in the end the choice will be yours. Mikael is not simply linked to you, his entire existence is bound to yours by the magic that is inside of you. Therefore, if I remove it from you and break the bond, I break his lifeline - with consequences that I cannot for certain say. But I am certain that if I do not, Mikael will live on, as long as you shall live, and he will not be able to be killed - not even by the White Oak stake."


	51. The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Philippe had always had terrible timing. Klaus and Elijah did not at all look happy when he finally managed to find them - probably because Mikael had found them first.

_Merde._

His arrival had created a moment of confusion for everyone but Elijah was the only one to seize it. Philippe watched him grasp for something on the ground behind his father. In the next second he had driven the wooden stake deep into Mikael's back.

"I do hope you brought the real one," Klaus flew at him.

"All yours," Philippe nodded, tossing over the White Oak stake.

Elijah wrestled Mikael's arms behind his back without mercy. With him restrained, his chest and heart exposed, Klaus fisted the stake and stepped forward.

But before he could strike, his brother kneed their captive so viciously in the back one could hear the spine snap down the street. Mikael crumpled to the ground, groaning in the filth of the alley as Elijah stood over him and aligned his shoulders dead square.

"Give it to me."

With that tone, Klaus knew he would not ask twice. He handed over the White Oak stake, content to be a spectator for the grand finale.

The end came very fast, without ceremony, without emotion, without hesitation. Elijah simply fell to one knee, raised the stake, and brought it down - and he drove it down until it was swallowed by flesh and the bone shattered and it pierced the heart.

But nothing else happened.

The flames of vindication never erupted. Falling back on his heels, Elijah opened his fist, leaving the stake in the corpse as he rose to his feet in bewilderment.

He looked to Niklaus, then Philippe. Their expressions all voiced the same concern.

"Something's wrong."

"You bloody think?" Klaus snapped. "I'm baffled how you managed to cock this one up."

"Patricide is your forte," Elijah retorted. "If you have some special insight into why our father is not a pile of ash, then please."

Throwing his brother a nasty glare, Klaus shoved him aside, cursing his incompetence and assuming a steadier aim would bring a swift end to this issue. But distracted by their argument, neither had realized their father had moved until the alley echoed with the sound of broken bone.

Philippe crumpled to the ground - neck snapped, out cold - and there was Mikael standing over him, a bloody hole in the middle of his chest and the White Oak stake in hand.

\

Sankar was right; they didn't have time for this. Every minute Hope and Hayley spent arguing with him over probability and possibility was another minute Elijah was fighting with a weapon that would never work against an enemy that would never die.

"Will the two of you just shut up so I can think for a goddamn second?"

"Think about what?" Hope cried out. "Leah, you can't seriously be considering this!"

"He said 'may.'"

"He said you could die!"

"He said I could maybe die, as opposed to the definite massacre that could go down any second as you stand here and argue with me!"

"Because you're being stubborn, and stupid - you don't know what you're agreeing to!"

"Call it an experiment. I'm donating my body to science."

"This is not funny, Leah!"

"You think I don't know that? Do you think I'm so fucked up in the head I can't see what I'm risking? I know I'm taking a chance on my life, but I'm taking that chance for you. So stop fighting me on this and just cross your fingers and pray. That will do more good than trying to talk me out of it."

But Hope had started crying as if tears were all she had left to plead her case. She spun toward her mother, expecting support, but Hayley had turned her face away, her thoughts as tightly guarded as her arms crossed at her chest.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Leah was now asking Sankar.

"Removing the magic will be a simple procedure. Parents often have it performed on infants whom they do not wish to suffer the burden of a supernatural existence."

"Tell me about it," she swallowed, hoping she was brave enough for this.

"However, before I begin, Leah, I will need your final consent. I need to know that you are fully aware of the ultimate potential consequence of this decision."

"Leah, _don't!"_ Hope grabbed her. "Don't do this - we'll find another way!"

"When? In a hundred years? Five hundred - a thousand? A thousand more years of _running_? Aren't you tired, Hope? Don't you want to go home?"

"I don't want to go home, I want you to _live_!"

"And I want you to trust me. I need you to trust me. Trust that I am doing the right thing."

"But what if you're wrong, Leah? Would you do that to me - would you do that to _Elijah_?"

Leah flinched, shutting her eyes before her courage abandoned her. She could forgive Hope's desperate selfishness but she could not forgive herself if Elijah spent all eternity believing she had made this choice for any reason other than she loved him.

She was regretting that he was not here so she could tell him just that. Then again, it had always been so hard for her to say those words, easier to cloud herself in every other emotion than the one that wanted to shine through the most.

_If I make it out of this, I'll tell him,_ she promised.

_If I make it out of this, I'll be lucky as hell._

_And if I don't..._

In her head, the decision was made. She would not condemn Hope and Elijah to run from Mikael forever, not when she had felt every ounce of the hate that fueled his ever-wakeful thoughts. Not when he had driven them from their homes and would never let them return. Not when she could end this all tonight if she could just swallow her fear and be _brave_.

So that's what she did. Leah took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

/

Klaus and Elijah were sitting ducks. They stood in the middle of the alley, planted by their disbelief as Mikael kicked aside Philippe's body and descended on them in a rage.

He went for Elijah first, backhanding him hard and sending him sprawling across the steaming asphalt. Weaponless, Klaus tried to throw himself between them, but Mikael swung out and drove him back.

"Do not make the same mistake twice, boy."

"My only _mistake_ was not killing you myself."

Klaus never took his eyes off the White Oak stake leveled at his chest. Retreat was not an option; the brothers' only hope was to regain possession of the weapon in Mikael's hand.

Elijah was already on it; pushing off from the ground he lunged at his father.

But at the edge of his vision, Mikael foresaw the attack. He pivoted, propelling the stake into a violent uppercut until Elijah was straining with everything he had to keep the point from burying itself through his chest.

Klaus had never moved so fast in his life. He plucked the dagger from the alley floor, the bare blade drawing blood as he fisted his hand around it and rushed to his brother's defense.

Yet without the handle, the dagger was unwieldable. It had barely torn through the back of his suit before Mikael turned the stake away from Elijah to finish off his bastard brother. He hurled Klaus from his back, casting him down at his feet.

But the hybrid brought the vampire down with him.

They rolled across the black ground, locked in a struggle for possession of the stake; Elijah would have pulled one off the other if he could have told the two apart. It wasn't until he heard the howl of victory that he knew his brother had won.

Klaus brought the White Oak stake down in a violent arc, driving it in relentlessly until he felt the weapon tear through the softness that lay between the bone. Mikael's roar died in his throat as his eyes went dark with the realization of his fate; if it was fear, or regret, or acceptance reflected there, Klaus never saw it. He wasn't looking.

He had locked eyes with his brother, so Elijah would know he was doing this for him.

With one final thrust the alley was engulfed in flame.

\

The water felt ice cold as Leah splashed it on her face.

Frowning at herself in the mirror, her chest grew tight as she stuck her hands under the faucet once more. She'd locked herself in the bathroom under the excuse of cleaning up a bit before the others returned. That had been ten minutes ago. Now she was simply hiding from Hope's endless stream of questions about how she was feeling post magic-extraction.

For all the brouhaha before, it had been a routine procedure. Everything had gone smoothly; some strange, off-brand mumbo-jumbo and Sankar had stripped every last atom of Harvest magic from her body. Talk about finally being sober; Leah felt good. She felt great!

She felt alive.

Hope, however, refused to take her word for it.

"Leah," she pounded on the bathroom door. "Leah, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, fine," she shouted back, scrambling to turn off the hot water. "Everything's fine."

"Let me in. I want to see for myself."

Hands still wet, Leah unlocked the door and swung it open.

"See? Fine. Thanks."

She grabbed at the change of clothes in Hope's hand and tossed them onto the counter, roping a towel down from its peg.

"News on Elijah?" she asked drying her hands.

"Heading back now. It's done, Leah. My Mom just confirmed it."

"Mikael's dead?"

"Leah... are you _sure_ you're feeling okay? Sankar said if there were any negative effects you would know right away."

For a moment she was unable to look Hope in the eyes. Leah stared down at her hands as she slowly balled up the towel.

"You know what? Why don't you go make us some drinks. I'll be out in a second and we can celebrate being out of the woods together. How's that sound, good?"

Leah smiled and Hope wanted to believe it.

"Yeah, sounds good."

"Great."

But as soon as she was alone, Leah locked the door and threw herself over the sink. Even as she turned on the water again she kept telling herself nothing was wrong.

She shoved her hands back under the tap, blinking back tears of frustration.

The water was hot - scalding; her hands were red and raw.

And yet all Leah could feel was the cold.


	52. American Beauty

This was nothing new. Leah St. Ann had been dying all her life.

She was born with a rope around her neck; the cord had wrapped itself around her in the womb as if some fate had tried to spare her the curse of ever being born. She was cut from her mother by a knife and by a knife, twenty-two years later, she was sent back into the dark.

But Leah St. Ann also knew how to live, and how to make the most of life, however long or little she had been given. Regret was nothing she had time for and if she gave herself over to pity she would have no time for anything else.

Even now as her hands grew cold she did not waste time regretting the risk she had taken to free them all from Mikael. She pulled at her hair in the mirror, imaging how they would always remember her. The dress Hope had brought her was white and it hung from her loosely like a sheet in the wind.

_At least I'll make a beautiful ghost._

She could still hear the sounds of happiness from down the hall; all the way in the kitchen Hope was gushing her relief to her mother. At least her hybrid senses hadn't quite left her yet. She wondered if they would, if one by one everything that made her supernatural would fade away until even her immortality abandoned her.

Or would she simply and swiftly, like a light, go out.

Mustering a sad little smile, Leah said goodbye to herself in the mirror.

Hope ran up to her as she reappeared in the living room.

"Leah! Ah, you look so much better! Here, I got you that drink."

She didn't realize how much she needed it. Her courage was deserting her faster than the warmth from her body. Her fingers were already stiff as she accepted the glass from her friend.

Then promptly set it down before Hope could see it shake in her hand.

"Where's everyone?"

"Scattered. Mom went to see about cleaning up some of this mess and I think Sankar went to help Klaus with Philippe. He'll be glad to know you're okay though! He was really worried how you were; he wouldn't even leave until I swore you said you were fine."

"And Elijah?" she added briskly. "What's taking him so long?"

"He's on his way now. Stop worrying, Leah; I'm sure he'll be plenty glad to know you're okay too."

But she really wasn't - and Hope was so freaking oblivious that Leah realized she would never have the courage to destroy that blissful ignorance. She had even considered not saying goodbye, hiding out somewhere and letting them find her. If that made her a coward it was not her worst fault; she was already a hypocrite for what she'd left for Hope.

She just didn't want to be here to see her best friend cry.

"Maybe I'll just go wait for Elijah in his place."

"You're leaving?" Hope jumped. "Why? Just wait from him here."

"Because 'here' looks like a crime scene. It's depressing. If I can't be back home at least I can not be in this tomb of a room."

"Don't be ridiculous, Leah. We'll get it cleaned up. Better yet, Mikael's dead - we'll be all home tomorrow. But you'll come back to New Orleans with me, right? Just for a bit?"

Leah's eyes began to mist. Oh how she wanted to throw her arms around Hope and promise her the moon! But a cold weight now pressed on her chest and she wrapped her arms around herself so her friend wouldn't notice how she shivered.

"I guess I wouldn't mind that too much," was all she said.

"Well, it means the world to me. If Aidan's not waiting I don't know what I'll do."

Aidan. _Of course._ How did she forget? If her brother wasn't alive then she was leaving her best friend with no one.

The guilt was making her faint. Leah held herself tighter as she swayed on her feet.

"Actually, can I borrow a sweater?"

"Of course," Hope smiled. "Just stay right there. I'll grab you one."

"You're the best. You know I love you, right?"

"You can tell me again in a sec."

Though as soon as Hope vanished, Leah stumbled toward the couch; her legs didn't seem to want to work anymore. Catching her breath, she leaned against the armrest, revolted by the fact that it was covered in her blood. She really did hate this room; these cold, grey walls felt too much like a coffin.

She imagined them coming to visit her here, not here the hotel but somewhere pretty with a view - Hope and Elijah and maybe even Aidan, leaving lives around the world to share a bit of them with her. And her stone would be beautiful, elegant but simple, and they'd all come back to remember and to read what it would say:

_Here_ _lies Leah St. Ann, a few months shy of forever. __Now stop crying, I love you, and move on with your life._

She knew they would need the reminder.

There was a commotion near the foyer as someone fumbled with the door. Leah had just enough time to brush the tears from her eyes before Elijah burst into the room.

For a second he didn't believe his eyes. There she stood, dressed in white, flawless and inviolate and _alive, _and she was not only safe, she was _shining. _And her face lit up when she saw him, and the distance between them was unbearable, and they met in the middle like the fusion of a star.

But when he kissed her the fire she felt burned cold, like the sputtering flame of a funeral torch, and the warmth in her heart quickly faded back to ice.

Her legs were now shaking. She had to grab onto Elijah to even hold herself up.

"I was so scared for you," she said breathless.

"I came back as fast as I could. Leah, I -,"

"You're here now. That's enough."

"Leah, what happened? You're trembling."

"Not now, Elijah. It doesn't matter. Just listen when I say that I love -"

She collapsed, simply dropped; he barely caught her.

Terror made his voice crack.

"What are you not telling me?"

She raised her eyes to him apologetically just as Hope came around the corner.

"Leah, did you put this bible on my bed? I don't remember - "

The book dropped from her open hands in horror. Her best friend was as pale as snow, her blue eyes frosted over as Elijah scooped her up and cradled her.

"This can't be happening_," _Hope rushed forward. "She was fine just a moment ago!"

"What did you let the witch do to her?" he demanded.

"Nothing! I mean, she wanted - she _chose_ \- "

"_Then why didn't you stop her?"_

"Elijah, please," Leah whispered. "Not her fault."

She was a dead weight in his arms. Her head lolled against his chest from the exertion of even talking

"Don't be mad at Sankar. It's not his fault either. I asked him to do it."

"Do what?" he cried. "Leah, what have you done?"

"Just trust me, Elijah, and take me somewhere, please. I don't want to die in this room."

/

**Red**

/

As the sunlight fell upon her hair, Elijah was mesmerized. Red was such a crude word to describe all the brilliance reflected in every perfect strand. He couldn't help but stare as he studied her across the pillow.

"We should get up soon," Leah whispered shyly.

"I was considering it," he smiled back.

It was their first morning waking up together and everything seemed to sparkle. If there was a world outside this bedroom neither one cared a lick; Elijah was content to simply gaze at Leah forever. Hours later she was still shining from the glow he had given her and he traced her cheek lightly with the gentle memories of their first night.

"You're radiant."

"I'm sure you say that to all your girls."

"If I did, I was certainly blind."

She hid her face in her pillow; her cheeks hurt from how much he made her smile. By the time she managed to pull herself together he had already set his feet on the floor.

When she saw his back turned to her, just for that second, Leah began to doubt.

"Do you regret it?" she asked cautiously. "Last night?"

"Do you?"

There was no need for her to reply; her ridiculous grin gave everything away.

"Then stay," Elijah chuckled. "I'll bring you breakfast."

"You're kidding," she gasped, sitting up suddenly. "Are you serious?"

"I most certainly am. What did you possibly expect?"

"I don't know. That you'd kick me out eventually with a bagel if I were lucky."

"Leah, why on earth would I do that?"

She shrugged a little sadly, but he thought he understood. Elijah leaned in to kiss her forehead before rising to throw on a robe.

"How would you like your eggs?" he asked cheerfully.

"_What?"_

"Any way you want them."

"They come in _ways_? I just thought you stirred them around until they were done."

He sat back down on the edge of the bed and cupping her face kissed her slowly.

"Let me come down with you," she laughed across his lips. "I can help…stir."

"Nonsense," he twinkled. "I'm not letting you out of that bed."

Leah bit her lip, turning her chin into her shoulder as she blushed bright red.

/

**White**

/

Leah was nearly blinded. Rebekah's wedding dress was the bright white one could only achieve in a lab. In her own bridesmaid's dress, she was fidgeting uncomfortably; the puff sleeves were only slightly more intolerable than the shade of green she'd been forced to endure.

From his spot on the groom's side, Elijah laughed.

"You're so dead," she mouthed across the aisle, trying not to laugh too hard and ruin the wedding photos. The photographer was taking his sweet time; another minute in these shoes and she was sure her feet would fall off.

"_Fatto_!" he finally announced in Italian. "All done!"

"The damage is certainly done_." _Leah grumbled, yanking off her heels to rub her feet. She tossed the shoes aside as Elijah approached with chuff amusement.

"You survived."

"Barely."

Leah tossed herself at him without warning but he was always ready to catch her. He caught her hand gracefully and spun her around with an elegant twirl.

"Amazing," he teased her, "the way your hair just _clashes _with that dress - truly a crime against anything with eyes."

"Okay, Mr. Wisecrack. You asked for it."

Grabbing at the hem with both hands, she lifted the dress over her head before Elijah felt any need to stop her. He too preferred her like this, barefoot and unadorned in just the white silk of her slip.

"Leah!" Rebekah shouted over the pews. "If you ruin that dress before tomorrow..."

"I won't!" she promised, grabbing Elijah's hand. With the other she tossed her bridesmaid's dress to Hope, ignoring the disappointment on her friend's face.

"You're leaving?"

_"Breaking free."_

She tugged Elijah along as they raced down the aisle and out the front doors of the lovely little church. They found themselves in a tiny piazza, a romantic little square all to themselves. Hand-in-hand Leah stood with him before the marble fountain and just watched the water sparkle as it trickled from the angel's pitcher.

Elijah, of course, was looking only at her; no Renaissance sculptor could have ever come close to capturing her beauty. There was a fire in Leah that the angels themselves would praise, one he would fight heaven itself to hold and keep as his own. Just standing here with her made his heart ready to burst; if joy was truly more than a word, then this was what it felt like.

And if he wasn't already at a wedding God knows what foolishness he'd be tempted to do in that moment to prove how much he loved her.

"_Scusi, Signore_," the peddler approached him, "_per la vostra bella sposa_."

"What did he say?" Leah wondered as Elijah accepted the rose.

"For you," he presented it, kissing her cheek. "He agrees you look beautiful in white."

/

**And Blue**

/

Cradled in his arms, Leah turned her blue eyes toward the sky. Elijah had taken her to the roof like she wanted, so high up it was quiet and the night was not so dark. Dawn, however, was still hours away, but of the two of them only one would see it.

She could hear him calling her name, but he sounded so far away.

"Elijah? Where are you?"

"I'm here. Leah, I'm here. Hold on for me."

She shivered as he touched her face, trying to bring her back just long enough to say goodbye. Even her breath felt chilled across his face as he placed his lips on her forehead.

"I can't lose you again like this," he quavered.

"Guess it's no easier the second time around."

He sobbed to see her smile, to see the spirit that refused to go so gently into the night.

"Oh, Leah - all the days that I have wasted..."

"Don't do that," she begged him. "Don't start with the regrets."

"But the promises I have made -"

"You made me happy, that's enough. And we were good - you and I. We were the best."

"The way I treated you, Leah. The things I said - _I was afraid_ -"

"I know," she said softly. "Elijah, I know. You don't have to apologize. There's nothing that needs to be forgiven. If anything, I'm sorry I was so stubborn, that I didn't always want the things you wanted for me in life, but none of that meant I didn't love you."

"Leah..."

"Because I do. I really, _really_ do."

"Leah, _please_."

His tears begin to wet her hair and it broke her heart to see him cry. It took all of Leah's strength to raise her hand to his face.

"Tell Hope I'm sorry. Make her understand."

"Stay for her. _Stay for me_."

"I can't Elijah. You have to let me go..."

"But if you leave, what will I be? I am yours. I cannot do this alone."

"You are Elijah Mikaelson," she smiled. "You will never be alone."

Her hand went limp, falling to her chest, but he caught it, and kissed it, and held it to his lips.

Then the silence stole upon her and she closed her eyes at last.

He called her name but she did not answer; he listened to her heart but it did not beat.

She was gone.

He was alone.

And it felt to Elijah in the darkness of that moment, that the stars had all gone out, and that the future was hopelessly endless without her, and that the sky itself would crash to the ground and drown him in its mournful sea of blue.


	53. The Remains of the Day

By the time Hayley returned, Hope was hysterical.

"Where are they?" she was sobbing. "Mom, where did he take her?"

"Hope, _who_, who are you -?"

"Elijah! I've looked - _I've looked everywhere!"_

"For Leah? Honey, she's had a night. Let her have her time with him."

"But there is no time, Mom - Leah's dying!"

"She's _what? _Hope, what's happened?"

But she was crying so hard she could barely even breathe. Immediately Hayley encircled her daughter, stroking her hair and holding her close. It had been years since Hope had felt like such a small child in her arms.

"Baby, I'm so sorry."

"She told me she was fine. Mom, she told me she wasn't going to leave..."

"I know. Sweetheart, I know."

"And he took her... Elijah took Leah somewhere and now I can't say goodbye..."

Hope's body shook as the tears refused to stop; it was all Hayley could do to draw her closer and just hold her. But she said nothing; she had no words of comfort for her daughter: Elijah was likely holed away in solitude, meaning Leah was already dead.

And this, this helpless knowing, was the worst part of being a mother.

"You're going to be okay, Hope. Trust me, you are going to be okay."

But even Leah, her best friend, had lied to her, so Hope would never trust anyone again.

She watered her mother's shoulder with tears until she felt she had no more to spare. And then she stopped, because she was done crying, because one emotion now overwhelmed another. Hope's face grew dark and blotchy with anger. When the front door opened once more it did so only to mock her grief; it was not Elijah and Leah but her father, Philippe, and the _witch._

Hope's eyes flashed amber and she lunged.

"_You_," she hissed. _"You did this to her!'_

She slammed Sankar against the wall before anyone could stop her, her hand around his throat until her claws were drawing blood. Her mother screamed for Hope to stop but her father was close enough to grab her.

"Sweetheart - off. You're killing the poor man."

"He's killed Leah! _This is his fault!"_

Klaus threw a stiff glance toward Hayley before he used his gentle force to pull his daughter off the witch.

"Get him out of here," he ordered Philippe. "_Now."_

"Let me go!" Hope shouted venomously. "Let me go - you're all _murderers_!"

"Hope, stop this," he demanded. "Tell me what has happened and explain yourself."

"It's Leah," Hayley spoke for her. And that was all she needed to say.

Klaus' expression softened into pity.

"Oh, Hope -," he tried to hug her. "My, dear, I am truly, truly sorry."

"Get away from me," she spat. "She did this to save you and you _hated_ her."

He didn't exactly deny it, but at least, unlike Hayley, he knew it best to keep his mouth shut.

"We knew she was your friend," she said. "Hope, we always knew what Leah meant to you."

"Then why did you stand around and do nothing! You let her do this to herself!"

"Honey, Leah knew what she was doing - and she did it so that you and Elijah - ,"

"Don't say his name!" Hope angrily cried. "He took Leah away and _I hate him!_"

"Careful, love," Klaus said softly, "let's not say things we'll regret. You don't mean to blame your uncle."

"I blame _you_!" she whirled on him hotly. "You were the one who locked Leah in here - _for weeks _\- while you wasted her life working on some stupid plan. Well, was this it? Was this your plan - everyone lives except _her_?"

"I did everything I could to bring us all through this alive."

"Then why did _my_ best friend have to risk her life to solve _your _problem?"

"Mikael was everyone's problem, Hope. This entire family was in danger -"

"But Leah's not _part_ of this family! She shouldn't have to die for it!"

"There was simply no other way -"

_"It was your job to find another way!"_

"Both of you, stop!" Hayley shouted. "Hope, your father has a point..."

"Don't you dare defend him!" she snapped. "I heard you on the phone with him - plotting against Leah!"

"It was your father's idea of a last resort. I would never have done it. We just wanted to protect you..."

"Oh, sure," Klaus scowled. "As if I am the only one around here willing to do whatever needs to be done."

"At least I consider our daughter's feelings before I do it!"

"I have considered her through _everything_! Do not stand there, Hayley, and presume I take any joy in Leah's fate."

"That's bullshit," Hope raged at him. "Since the day I brought her home the both of you have wanted her out of my life."

"Love, that is simply not true."

"Then look me in the eye and tell me otherwise. Tell me that my own parents never once thought of killing my best friend."

Klaus fell silent. Hayley looked away.

Hope was disgusted.

"Leah was my friend," she glowered, "and the two of you are _monsters_."

"Hope! Come back!"

Hayley chased her to the door as she spun on them and ran.

But it swung open before she had reached it.

There stood Elijah.

He stepped through the doorway in silence, still clothed in the rags from the ruin of his night; the fact that he had not changed into a fresh suit said certainly more than he. A stone, if standing in his place, would have shown more signs of life, but the emptiness of his eyes - and his arms - told them all what they needed to know.

The confirmation of Leah's death hit them all at different angles. Klaus kept his eyes on his brother and Hayley's fell softly on Hope - and she, for whom the pain struck deepest, fell into a storm of a million emotions. For the longest time Hope could say nothing, not even as she watched Elijah cross the room before her.

He picked up the bible from the floor, turning it over in his hands.

"I will speak with Hope," he announced, quietly but commanding. "Hayley, you will find Philippe; send him to my room. I have left instructions."

"Elijah, I -"

"And Niklaus," he cut her off coldly. "Flight arrangements - make them."

Klaus nodded, relieved that his brother's demand had been so simple. He threw a warning glare toward Hayley, daring her to protest, then in silence, without a word, he retreated from the room.

Elijah gave no acknowledgment to his brother's concession. He waited solemnly until Hayley had left and he and his niece were alone.

Immediately Hope ignited.

"How dare you say _anything_ to me," she flew at him. "How dare you come back here without her!"

"I am here to fulfill a request. I am not here to defend what I have done."

_"What you have done?_ You took her away! You wouldn't let me see her! You didn't let me say goodbye!"

"It was as Leah wan-"

"You don't _know_ what Leah wanted! She didn't want to leave me! She didn't want to die alone!"

"She was not alone," he said calmly, too calmly had she noticed.

"_You selfish bastard_," she tore at him. "You had no right! _I was her friend._ Before Leah even met you she was my best friend! Who were you ever to her that gave you the right to take her from _me_?"

Elijah hung his head, and when he said nothing Hope turned her back on him completely.

"I can't even look at you," she was crying. "Just tell me where she is and then go - I never want to see you again."

"Hope, -"

"And don't you dare think you're taking her back to Boston!" she spun around again. "Leah is coming home with me."

He inhaled deeply, but kept his silence, until Hope realized it was already too late.

"I can't see her, can I?" she sobbed. "You've already done it."

"Leah is on her way to the airport now. I've had Philippe and Sankar see to it."

"You let that witch near her?! If you cared a damn about Leah you should have killed him for what he did!"

"I am not looking for someone to blame, Hope. I am trying to do right by him, as Leah wanted."

"Leah didn't want to leave us..."

"And yet the decision was hers and we are left to accept it."

His words had not been meant as consolation; the weight of Elijah's voice simply ended the discussion. If Hope was a tempest, he was done floating in her sea. She did not care that he was already drowned, and he did not care to remain here any longer.

He was only here at all to do what Leah had asked. Dutifully, he handed over the bible.

"She wanted you to have it - to understand."

Hope snatched it from his hand as if this was some trick; it was the book she had found on her bed. She had forgotten all about the stupid thing and couldn't imagine its worth. Despite her last name, Leah hadn't been religious. The only faith she'd ever spoken of was the faith she'd always had in their friendship.

Turning away from Elijah, she threw open the cheap leather cover, tearing past the title page to the first blank sheet; it was no longer blank but covered in the small scrawl of a familiar handwriting. Leah must not have had time to find any other paper because she had written hastily in tiny, desperate print.

There were two messages, one scratched on top the other, written twenty-four hours apart but with similar intent.

They were Leah's last goodbyes.

_Hope -_ the first one said plainly - _you never did anything wrong.__ But I'm leaving because I have to and it's time for me to go. One day come find me and we'll start over together. I can't do this alone. But I've left you something in the safe in your room just in case you try to forget me. The code is the day we first met. You can give it back when I see you soon. _

And the second note went like this:

_This is super cliche, but if you are reading this I'm probably dead. __I know this is a shit way to say goodbye but I finally understand why sometimes people just leave. It's not because they don't love you, it's because they love you so much it hurts to see you cry. __And I love you, Hope. I love you! And I'm sorry._

_You are more than my friend you are my sister. You are the family I never had. You are the reason I dared to have dreams beyond tomorrow, and if it wasn't for you I'd been dead years ago. You saved me Hope - and you gave me these last five years with Elijah - and I have tried everyday to repay you for this gift. If I have let you down, if I wasn't there when you needed me, I am sorry. All I can hope is that maybe__ now the debt is paid._

_But still I will ask you one more favor - help Elijah, help him through his, Hope. Be there for him like you were always there for me, because sometimes you do get lucky and find love in all different ways. And I was lucky, Hope, I was the luckiest. _

_And maybe one day he'll find someone else to adore, and maybe one day you'll have that family to cherish, and then you'll know why I have done this, why I have given you this chance, because even a family as crazy as yours deserves to live and to love just like real people do._

_If I run into Aidan - wherever I am going - I'll give him all your love._

And that was it. Hope flipped through the pages but found nothing more to comfort her. Even Elijah had abandoned her while she read. And so she stood there, brokenhearted, and alone like she had never been alone in her life, since for once there was no one to catch her when she fell, and collapsed onto the carpet in tears.


	54. Fly Away Home

_Hope looked back longingly at the other children on the playground._

"_I don't wanna go home," she whined at her aunt. "Why do we have to leave?"_

"_It's not goodbye forever, love. We'll come back tomorrow. I promise."_

_Rebekah took her hand and they started toward the car. Very young and very tired, Hope sulked as she dragged her feet._

_Then something caught her eye, a pretty little creature in its beautiful feathered coat._

"_Bexie, look, it's a birdie!"_

"_A birdie?" her aunt laughed. "Well, then show me, I want to see too."_

_Hope pointed eagerly toward the bushes. The bird, on its back, was dead._

"_What's wrong with him?" she wanted to know._

"_He's sleeping, sweetheart. For a very long time."_

"_Is he sick? Can we help him feel better, Auntie Bex?"_

"_Some things just can't be helped, love. Now let's leave the poor birdie in peace."_

_But that night Hope got out her crayons after dinner, and folded some paper and made the bird a card. And she drew on it rainbows and flowers and wrote on it '"feel better friend." And she signed her name in big multi-colored letters and clutched it to her heart the whole way to the park._

_But when she returned the next day, the bird was gone - and this made her so very happy, because she got to go around and tell all the other children how her friend the bird had felt so much better that he was able to fly away on his own._

/

As they crossed the river into Queens Hope stared through the windshield. The sad colors of dawn had her thinking about the bird, and the lies, even then, her family told to protect her. But they had done her no favors, trying to hide her from the world, and she now wore her ingratitude with bitterness on her face.

She refused to even acknowledge the other passengers in the car. They were on their way to the airport, her parents and her in the back seat of a sleek sedan. Klaus had arranged for a small plane back to New Orleans. It was time, he had said, to go home.

Not all of them, though. Not everyone.

Pressed in the back between her parents, Hope was suffocating. Their presence was as inescapable as the constant pain of last night. She couldn't breathe at the thought of Leah; at the mention of Elijah she wanted to scream. Just looking at her parents made her want to change her name, and just being in this city made her want to run away and never look back.

And she was planning to do just that.

For all their worried glances and smothering touches, Klaus and Hayley were none the wiser. In fact, Hope hadn't said a word to anyone since her father had collected her still crying from the floor. Out of some cowardly notion of respect, her parents were answering her silence with their own.

The tension in the car demanded to be broken - but it seemed like the family was ready to break with it.

Klaus hadn't even dared to look over at his daughter until she started to nod off; they had all been awake for hours and her sadness was a powerful sedative. In her lap, Hope clutched the only item she'd brought with her, something rescued from her safe like the most precious of treasures.

He recognized the jewel on the silver bracelet in her hands. Oh, the grief he had given his brother when he'd stolen that moonlight stone! It had seemed such a betrayal at the time, but now the memory only filled Klaus with shame. Even when she no longer needed its power, Leah had worn the stone every day like a piece of herself.

But in Hope's hands, the bracelet foretold strife. Elijah had given it to Leah, like he'd given her his heart, and had it been a diamond ring Klaus would not have seen the difference. If his brother didn't realize it was missing it was only because he never imagined she would ever take it off.

He feared what Elijah would do when he learned that Hope had it; after the argument between them, he was likely to declare a war. The bracelet had become a prize - _to the most devoted - _like an apple of discord, created to bring ruin to their entire house.

Klaus didn't know what to do to stop it. Neither of them were particularly sane at the moment. Hope's new hybrid emotions were flinging her through the stages of grief at an all-consuming rate; she had become so volatile even he dared not provoke her. Elijah, on the other hand, where ever he had fled, was at least being predictable in his reaction to Leah's death. No one had seen him since he'd given his niece the bible, when he'd been spiritless and snappish and in his silent way just as ornery as Hope.

It was probably therefore best they were leaving immediately; this city wasn't big enough to bear the misery of two Mikaelsons - and at the moment Klaus could only focus on one of them. Elijah had loved and lost before; Hope was still a child.

It felt heartless to wake her up but they were here.

The car pulled up at the edge of the tarmac; out in the dark field the private aircraft waited. Their arrival had been expected; the side door was open and the stairs ready, and at the back of the plane the loading ramp was down.

Everything seemed to Hope like a movie without sound. Her mother was saying something, trying to coax her from the car, and strange people she didn't know where talking to her father. There seemed to be a problem, or some odd last-minute change. Her parents all but forgot her in the car as they dealt with the issue in the moment, until it was as if they'd abandoned her altogether and she watched them disappear with the pilot into the plane.

Worrying Leah's bracelet between her fingers like a rosary, Hope sat alone in the car and prayed for the courage to go through with her plan.

But just as she was about to tap the driver on the shoulder, another vehicle pulled up silently beside them. It was an ordinary yellow cab, which was why Hope never expected him to emerge from the back seat.

Elijah Mikaelson looked ready for war. His suit was his armor, so sharp its perfection alone was a threat - his stoicism so unstable it could go off like a bomb. No wonder her parents had fled; to remain was to stand judgment for their crimes against Leah.

But unlike them, Hope did not cower. If anything Elijah stood judgment before her.

"I thought I never wanted to see you again."

"I am simply here on business - and then I will be gone."

The chill that rose between them was more than just the breeze; there was an unforgiving frost in the tone of their greetings. Hope squared her stance when she saw her uncle's eyes narrow with longing as they fell on the bracelet in her hand.

She protectively slipped it onto her wrist.

"Leah left it for me."

"I have not come to claim it."

"Then why are you here? This plane's not for Boston."

He forced his niece to follow his gaze for an answer. The strange men from earlier were now wheeling something from the hanger, preparing to load it up the ramp at the back of the plane.

Even from this distance, Hope could see the casket was beautiful.

"I'm sending her back with you," Elijah revealed, "and I concede all final decisions to your judgment."

"How considerate," she muttered, still watching the men.

"Not in the least," he said just as bluntly. "I have simply reconsidered my position on the matter. So congratulations, Hope - your arguments prevailed. You have won."

"_Won?"_ she spun on him angrily. "What is this a law suit? A custody battle? _For Leah?"_

"Are you not satisfied?"

"_Satisfied?_ Are you serious? My friend is dead, Elijah - she is _dead._ So tell me again what exactly I have _won._"

He tilted his head toward her curiously, his expression so detached he seemed bored.

Hope, believing his apathy genuine, could only muster up contempt for her uncle.

"You're unbelievable - all of you. This _entire_ family has lost its mind. Well, I'm out. Enjoy being sociopaths without me."

Elijah slowly realized her intention, but appeared unmoved by her announcement to secede.

"Your parents will be displeased," he said offhand, unconcerned.

"Tell them you know where I'm going but convince them not to look for me."

"You wish me to lie?"

"You owe me," Hope reminded him. "You owe me for what you did."

She took his silence as agreement, as a sign it was time to go; the town car was still waiting to take her away. Any moment her parents would be back and as Leah had written, it was easier just to leave.

Exhaling slowly, she lowered herself back into her seat and grabbed for the door.

Elijah came forward to stop her.

"One final piece of business..."

He slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and drew something out from inside. Hope looked up confused, taking the red booklets from him. In her hands she realized what they were, identical on the outside as even fake passports had to be. Flipping the first one open, she read through her counterfeit credentials, but fumbled with why he'd given her two copies until she opened the second one and gasped.

Those blue eyes staring up at her seemed to sparkle. Even in her tiny photo, Leah was still full of life.

"Thank you," she surprised him, the sympathy in her voice sincere. "Thank you for giving me this."

"I have no need for it," Elijah shrugged. "I assure you, I have misery to spare."

Hope simply stared at him sadly, finally seeing past the cold practicality to the pain he was actually in.

"It's all going to hit you," she tried to warn him. "All at once - you can't push it away."

"I appreciate your concern," he dismissed her, "but if you still wish to leave, you must go now."

She reached out to grab at the door, pausing on the handle and considering a goodbye. This might be the last time she saw him in years, and deep down she knew Leah would have wanted her to stay. But Leah was gone, and Elijah was in denial, and Hope already felt lost and alone.

So she pulled the door closed on Elijah and left him standing in the ruins of her life.


	55. Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

**April 15, 3:02am**

Aidan awoke to the smell of smoke.

He did not know how long he had been unconscious - he didn't know how he was even still alive. The last thing the werewolf remembered was being thrown into the wall. Pain had exploded at the back of his head and then he'd collapsed on a table - or the table had collapsed on of him.

He was pinned under it momentarily. Groaning, Aidan shoved its broken weight off his chest. It became no easier to breathe; the air was thick and oily and he could feel the heat of the flames reaching for him from all sides. The floorboards shimmered with chunks of broken glass, and when he called out for help the only answer was the crackling.

Rousseau's was on fire. So much for an emergency meeting place.

Throwing an arm across his face, Aidan gingerly managed to his feet. Immediately he stumbled toward the open air near the door, nearly tripping over something in his way.

He dared to look - it was a body.

There were bodies everywhere.

The werewolf found himself once more on the floor, falling to his knees in grief. The ugliness of his tears marred his handsome face as he crawled toward the nearest of his friends. Dragging the wolf's body into his arms, he howled in pain to recognize who it was.

They had grown up together; he had grown up with them all - they were his family and his cousins and his pack.

Aidan's sorrow roared into an angry sob. What kind of monster would do this to his people? In his father's absence, he was their alpha, and despite his inexperience they had put their faith in him.

Because they were his friends.

They had all come out to celebrate his girlfriend's birthday - they had known each other from school. But being in the same fraternity was not what had made the wolves brothers. They had already been through a tragedy together - five years ago on campus when Pablo Guerrera had killed two of their own.

How could this be happening again? How had he _allowed _this to happen again?

Aidan let his cousin's body fall from his hands; the goading sense of guilt drove him to his feet. If only he had known a single vampire would be capable of such brutality! No one had recognized the vagrant when he'd come into the bar looking for Klaus Mikaelson. The viking of a man had called him forward from the crowd, then asked his name and if he knew the Mikaelsons.

And all Aidan remembered was saying something _smart - _and when he woke up everyone was dead.

His heart leapt into his throat.

_Hope._

He scrambled through the chaos for his phone.

Aidan spotted it under a broken barstool and for one moment relief washed over him. All he had to do was hit one on his speed dial and he could hear her voice and know she was okay.

But for all the hundreds of dollars he had spent on that phone the piece of shit had shattered when it fell.

Cursing, he hurled it at the wall, spinning with his hands in his hair in raw frustration.

_Think, you idiot - think! Where would her parents have taken her?_

Hope's family had a house on the governor's old plantation. Aidan had been there once when he had helped her moved out. He could be there in half an hour if he drove and didn't look back.

There wasn't anything else he could do here for his friends.

His car was parked out down by the river and a short-cut took his through the Compound. He gagged at the sight as he walked through the gates. There were bodies stacked in piles, as if dragged in off the streets: guests and members from every sort of Faction, and others he didn't know by name. The raw violence of their massacre was nauseating to behold; the fountain, once clear, now flowed thickly with their blood.

Staggering back in horror, Aidan screamed Hope's name through the rest of the Compound. When only his own voice echoed back, he fled.

He sped the entire way out of the Quarter as he raced to the Mikaelsons' estate.

But stalling his car at the end of the drive, Aidan just sat in his seat in silence, staring blankly out through the front glass as he watched the house burn before his eyes.

There were no other people; no other cars - if Hope had been here at all she and her family were long gone.

And Aidan Thompson, the paradigm of privilege, now knew what it felt like to have nothing_._

When Elijah Mikaelson had set Liam Thompson in charge of the wolves he hadn't realized he was starting a dynasty. Hayley Marshall was still queen in the bayou, but the City Crescents were a pack of their own. And they had always eagerly followed Aidan, because they knew that one day he would be alpha like his dad.

But all he had ever wanted in life was to prove himself to people, that he was as genuine as his smile and as hard-working as they came. And the person to convince above all others had always been Klaus Mikaelson.

Because Klaus Mikaelson had a daughter. And her name was Hope.

And he was foolish enough to think that he might one day marry her.

But rolling down his window, Aidan realized just how foolish he has actually been. He tore the moonlight ring from his finger and hurled it over the glass. The hybrid had given it to him the day he'd come seeking his blessing - a token for his bravery perhaps, but one he no longer deserved.

Along with the faith of the wolves.

And the role of alpha.

And Hope herself.

So removing the small box from his pocket, Aidan threw that too into the night.

/

**June 3rd, 3:02pm**

49 days - not even two months - and they were back in New Orleans.

Not that there was anything to come back to.

Klaus pulled into the circular drive of the plantation. Cutting the engine, he just sat there in the car beside Hayley - there was really no point in getting out. They could survey the destruction from here. In the light of day you could see straight past the blackened walls into the heart of what had once been their home.

Talk about a bloody metaphor.

He set a hand on Hayley's knee when she started to cry, those silent, personal tears that people hate for others to witness. He was honestly surprised she had gone this long without them.

"It's only a house," he told her. "It can be rebuilt."

"I'm not upset about the stupid house!"

Yes, he knew that. Neither was he.

Elijah had stayed only long enough to tell them their daughter wouldn't be coming home. He said it just like that, as if she would simply be missing dinner. Klaus was truly worried for his brother - but his brother wasn't twenty-seven and alone for the first time in the world.

But that was how Klaus and Hayley had been left standing on the tarmac without Elijah, without Hope, and with Leah's casket in the back of their plane.

Naturally, this situation led to an argument.

"_What exactly does Elijah mean she's not coming home?!"_

"_Look at him, Klaus. Look at her. They're in shock. Hope just needs a day to -"_

"_She can have her day at home! If I have to drag her here, she is_ _getting on this plane."_

"_If you try to drag her back then she's really gonna run." _

"_Running away is for children, Hayley - our daughter is not a child anymore."_

"_Then trust her to come back on her own, Klaus. Just give her a few days; she won't miss Leah's funeral."_

And how exactly he and Hayley had landed the joy of arranging a funeral was enough of a mystery to distract him from his concern for Hope. Elijah hadn't even offered an opinion on the matter as if laying Leah to rest was no longer his concern. Klaus was sure this was the twilight zone: clearly the earth had shifted axis overnight because he shouldn't be doing any of this for Leah - and not because he didn't want to.

Hayley's hands were full with another sort of distraction. She'd become obsessed with making sure the Quarter was cleaned up and restored, as if the ruined state of New Orleans was the only thing keeping her daughter away.

She was now on the lawn, staring at the house. Klaus quietly joined her in mourning.

"Perhaps you were right, Hayley. It was best Hope did not return to this."

"No, I was wrong. There's not enough time to fix this before the funeral."

"Nonsense. I've been assured that the Compound will be cleared in a week. I'll have repairs started here tomorrow. The losses in the Quarter can easily be recovered -"

"That's not what I meant," she muttered miserably.

But of course he knew that as well.

In a very rare moment of compassion, Klaus leaned in and kissed Hayley's cheek.

"Come," he called to her gently, "let us seek some happier ground."

It was just then, however, that he noticed the odd assortment of items mashed into the mud of their driveway - there was a terribly sodden jacket, and a watch with a broken face, and off a bit in the distance some odd little sort of box.

"Are we having a yard sale I don't know about?" Klaus quipped, watching Hayley pluck something out of the grass.

"Isn't this one of yours -?" she held it up.

"_Give me that,_" he swiped the ring from her, turning the moonlight stone in his palm. He inspected it closely although he had immediately known who it belonged to - there were only two wolves he trusted anymore to own one of these.

"_Bloody Thompsons."_

"It's Aidan's, isn't it?" Hayley asked unsteadily. "Klaus, is he -?"

"_Do you see another reason it's here?"_

He hadn't meant to snap at her. If his tone was harsh it was only because he was being harsh with himself. He hadn't realized how much responsibility he actually felt for the kid. Stupid boy couldn't even keep himself alive.

Klaus felt guilty; he hadn't spared a thought to getting Aidan out of the Quarter and away from Mikael. At the time he had only been thinking about Hope.

But had he truly been thinking about his daughter, he would have done more to save the love of her life.

Both of them.

He was not looking forward to notifying Liam Thompson about his children.

"Hey, look at this."

Hayley shoved something at him and he took into his hands with suspicion. Oh, God, now this was sad - Klaus felt his chest tighten as he opened the tiny black box.

And instantly recognized the engagement ring.

"I don't want to see it," he shoved it back at Hayley. "Do something with it - toss it."

"_Toss it?"_

"Or you could wait until we find Aidan's body and return it to him then."

Klaus stormed off around the car, so upset his was fumbling with the key. He hated to admit that he actually cared so much about anyone other than family.

"Are you coming?" he snapped at Hayley, who was still standing out on the lawn. She had tilted her chin at an curious angle, as if listening for some far distance sound.

Clutching the ring box tighter, she suddenly took off toward the side of the house.

"Honestly, what are you doing?" he called after her.

"Exactly what you just said I should."

\

They found him in the back house.

Removed from the main building, it had survived the worse of the fire. In the past it had been a quarter for servants, then used as a kitchen in colonial times. Currently it had all the dignity of a garage, mainly repurposed for storage and lawn supplies.

Which had apparently appealed to the young wolf. Klaus stood over him mystified.

"Aidan, what the bloody hell are you doing in our shed?"

"I can explain."

His appearance did that for him. Aidan looked a wreck; he was shirtless, scruffy, and noticeably hadn't showered in weeks. There was dirt under his nails and bits of forest in his hair. He had clearly spent some nights as a wolf and apparently forgotten what it meant to be a man.

At least he was decently embarrassed by his state. Being caught still in bed at three in the afternoon by Klaus Mikaelson of all people was not ideal even on his better days - and 'bed' was a generous word. It was more of a tarp in a corner.

He sheepishly got to his feet, casting an eye around his den for his clothes.

"Forget the shirt, Aidan, look at me."

When the boy raised his eyes it seemed to Klaus he had aged ten years. Dark circles marred those fair eyes he shared with his half-sister. His hair had grown out long and feral, a wolf in man's clothing, or the ghost of even that.

Klaus was clearly having an off day emotionally because he threw his arm around Aidan's shoulder and pulled him close like a son.

"You had us thinking you were dead," he lightly chided.

"I didn't realize anyone was coming back so soon."

"Yes, I see that," Klaus almost smiled.

"Where's Hope?"

Hayley shifted uncomfortably beside them.

"Fine - but we can talk about that later. I think maybe we should get you a shower or something first. How long have you even been out here?"

"I don't know - what's the date?"

He blinked at them with such youthful earnestness that Klaus actually laughed.

"Right. Time to get you back to the civilization," he squeezed the wolf's shoulder. "But first, is there anything you happen to be missing by chance?"

He held up the moonlight ring.

"God, I thought I lost that," Aidan sighed in relief, eagerly taking it back and slipping it on his finger.

"Do not cast my gifts away so lightly," Klaus warned him good-naturally. "In fact, perhaps I should hold onto this for safe keeping."

He held forth the jewelry box and gave it a little shake.

"I was going to look for that eventually," Aidan received it ruefully. "I didn't really mean to pitch it. I just...completely lost my nerve."

"It happens to the best of us, though perhaps a story Hope never needs to hear."

"Has she asked for me? Where is she now?"

Klaus looked to Hayley, trusting she would know the right thing to say.

"Hope's just doing a bit of traveling on her own at the moment," she spoke truthfully.

Still Aidan looked slowly between them. There was obviously more.

"Okay, but she's okay - right?"

"She'll be fine, my brave boy," Klaus assured him. "With you at my side we will heal this city and the heart of New Orleans will beat loud and strong once more - it will call Hope home soon enough, Aidan, you do not need worry."

"But something's happened - hasn't it? What are you two not telling me?"

Klaus looked again to Hayley, but this time she had no words.


	56. Bridge Over Troubled Water

Here, where it was already tomorrow, the sun was beginning to set.

Hope watched it glow orange over the Moskva River. She recognized the landmark from the map she had taken from the airport. Turning it now about in her hands, she stared at the cross streets of Moscow and tried to work out where she was going.

Her cab continued to rattle toward the city center.

"Where you go again?" her driver asked roughly.

"I...I don't actually know."

The cabbie muttered something in Russian that made Hope sigh behind her map. _He must think I'm crazy_. Already he was giving her suspect glances through the mirror. Not only did she look a travel-worn mess but he had picked her up from the airport without a single piece of luggage. Besides the map, the sum total of her possessions included two passports, one bottle of water, a compelled airline ticket, and a pair of socks they had passed out on the plane - all shoved into a single plastic bag like she was some sad, little runaway.

And perhaps she was, out here in the world, five thousand miles from home.

Well, this was her home now, and it wasn't so bad. Sure she didn't know the language and couldn't read a thing, but those were just details that could all be sorted in time - sort of like the tiny detail of where she would be sleeping tonight. If she could help it she'd rather not step foot inside a hotel ever again.

One thing at a time, Hope guessed. One foot in front of the other.

Perhaps that was how you move on.

Before long, the Tchaikovsky pouring through the car radio had her thinking of Elijah. There had been plenty of opportunity on her eleven hour flight to consider their last conversation. At the time she had not been able to see her uncle's cool indifference for what it really was, and only now did she remember that the most devastating volcanoes can rage deep within the coldest of mountains.

She worried what the damage would be when Elijah's emotions finally erupted.

Idly Hope wondered how he had broken the news of her expatriation to Klaus and Hayley. Had her parents put two and two together and worked out where she had gone? Then let them come looking; she wished them luck. In a country this wide and a city this big she doubted anyone could easily find her.

She was now just one soul in a sea of twelve million.

Folding up her map, Hope shoved it in her bag and chided herself for musing on such unproductive thoughts. She had not come to Russia to brood but start over. If that meant cutting ties with her family then let those bridges burn - she had already struck the match by not even saying goodbye. What could she do about it now? Nothing. What would she go back to? Nothing at all.

Her fingers brushed the edge of Leah's passport.

Pulling it into her lap, Hope opened it, then closed it, then opened it again in defeat. No wonder Elijah had let her have it so freely; it was nothing more than a torture device. At this point, she might as well tie it about her heart like an anchor and let it drag her down into some endless depression.

The passport would have to go, this last bit of Leah; she should not have even brought it here to let it chalk up her clear slate like this.

Through the window she saw a bridge looming larger on her right and realized she knew her destination.

"There is much traffic," her driver spoke up. "You want me to try other street?"

"No, this is fine," Hope slid across her seat. "You can let me out here. I'll just walk."

Swerving up to the curb, the cabbie deposited her along the riverwalk. She felt terrible for compelling him to leave without his fare; compulsion had always made her feel like she was stealing. But she didn't have any money, let alone a clue where she actually was.

She kept her eyes focused on the bridge up ahead.

No one paid her any mind as she swam her way against the stream of people on the promenade. There were even less of them on the bridge itself, which was ornate, but narrow, and only meant for pedestrians. As the sky darkened and the wind picked up, Hope climbed its arc toward the center, toward the place where the sidewalk curved up steepest over the river and she could see the city rising up around her.

She let her little bag of belongings drop to her feet; at the moment she only needed one thing from it anyway. With Leah's passport in her hand, she made her way toward the edge of the bridge and stepped up onto the ledge where the fence was not so high.

One hand on the metal, Hope stepped up again onto the bottom rung of the railing.

She hesitated, but up and down the bridge the street lamps had come on in encouragement. The wind dried her tears and reminded her not to cry. The river, restless below, waited to receive whatever she would give it.

Hope looked one last time inside Leah's passport - then threw it over.

She leaned over the edge of the railing and waited to hear the splash. She heard something else instead.

"_Chto delayesh'?"_

The stranger's question startled her so much that her foot slipped from its perch. Hope had to grab the railing tight with both hands to steady herself against it.

This only distressed the man more.

"What are you doing?" he asked again in English. "Come down, yes? _Please."_

He waved her away from the edge, but Hope only stared at him blankly. She had no idea who he was, what he wanted, or why he looked so worried. When she made no move to step down from the ledge he cautiously began to approach her, as if she were some frightened baby rabbit who might suddenly spook and jump.

_Oh._

Hope looked at the man, then down at the river, and realized what this looked like.

His misunderstanding annoyed her. She made an exaggerated show of stepping off the railing and setting her foot down on the sturdy cement.

"Happy?" she said a bit harshly, though she instantly regretted her tone. The good samaritan still appeared genuinely concerned for her safety. She let him offer his hand and help her down the rest of the way.

"Thank you," was all she said, before immediately walking off in the opposite direction.

"Wait, please!" he called after her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she muttered dismissively, although apparently it wasn't translating.

"Perhaps you should not be alone?" he chased her down.

"I think alone is exactly what I need to be."

But he refused to leave and started to walk beside her.

Hope glared over at him angrily. At least he didn't _look_ like a creep; his face was shadowed by a short boxy beard that aged him more than his eyes could betray. His English was understandable, if clipped and heavily accented. Tall and broad shouldered, it was a shame his uniform made him appear hunched and overworked. There was some sort of government looking crest on his jacket lapel, but as far as what it said, it was Greek for all she knew.

On second inspection, clearly he was not the worst person she could have met after wandering aimlessly around a foreign city. Still, she really did want to be alone.

"Go away," she compelled him.

"I will go away," he promised. "Once I am absolutely sure you will be alright."

Hope blinked, dumbstruck. Her compulsion should have worked. They were speaking the same language and everything!

"_Go away,_" she tried again, knitting her brow in her concentration. "Leave me alone."

"No," he declared once again. "I simply cannot."

Giving up, Hope stopped walking and tried a different approach.

"Listen…_Mister_…"

"Ilya," he smiled. "I am called Ilya. Call me Ilya."

"Whoever you are, I just want to be alone right now."

"You just tried to jump off a bridge."

"That is _not_ what I was doing. I was just…why do you even care so much? You don't even know who I am."

"You are visiting Moscow?"

"Sort of...maybe."

"But you are American, yes? Anyone from here knows that this is not a good place to be all alone."

"You mean here as in this country?"

"This part of the city. This neighborhood."

"Ah. I see. Well, thanks for the safety lecture, but I can take care of myself."

Before she could stalk off again, he touched her arm firmly but gently.

"Please," he asked again, his voice still kind. "Let me help you."

He handed her back her plastic bag. She hadn't even realized she had left it.

"Oh," Hope snatched it back, mumbling with embarrassment. "Thanks."

"You will need those socks," he chuckled. "Very cold, even in spring. Do you have something warmer to wear? I am not sure why you are dressed for the beach."

Hope couldn't tell if he was making fun of her or not; everything he said just came out so sincerely.

"I'm not some street urchin if that's what you're thinking."

"I think you are sad. And not just usual 'I am in Russia' sad."

A ghost of a smile flashed across her face. She began walking again, this time slowly, allowing him to follow beside her.

"I find myself here unexpectedly," Hope revealed. "Didn't really have time to pack."

"Can I ask?"

"Why I'm in Moscow?"

"Or up there on that ledge," he asked patiently.

"Oh, that," she grumbled. "It's not much of a story. I had a friend. She died. The end."

"I am sorry for your loss."

"Yeah. Me too."

He let a moment of silence pass between them before continuing.

"Is that why you are here?" he asked gently. "Was your friend from Russia?"

"What? Oh, no, I'm just here to get some space. The rest of my family is a bit messed up because of it – in general I guess – yeah, they're always kinda messed up actually. It's just not good for me to be around them right now."

"So your friend was really close with your family then."

"Yeah, I guess. I don't know. My parents just kind of tolerated her. My uncle…"

Hope shut up before this conversation got any weirder.

"You know," she turned on him, "I have no idea why I am telling you all this. I don't even know you."

"You know me. I am Ilya."

"Well, that covers it then."

"You want to know who I am? Okay, how do I start? My name is Ilya Volkov, thirty-five. I was born three blocks from here, grew up in this neighborhood and I have never left this city. I have one brother and three sisters and when I was seven—"

She had to stop him there.

"No, that's fine. Don't need your life story."

"You wanted to know me," he smiled. "I tell you."

"You got me there."

To his delight, she smiled back. He knew what he was doing.

"Do you like warm chocolate?"

"Do you mean _hot cocoa_?" she squinted. "Like the drink?"

"It's good, yes? Would you like some?"

Hope's eyes went wide with disgust. What ever happened to just using candy and vans to lure people to their deaths?

"Look," she snapped at him, "if you're some psycho who prays on emotionally distressed young women let me warn you now you do not want to underestimate me in any capacity."

"Why would I be so foolish to do such a thing?" he asked calmly.

"Because you're stupid and don't know any better."

"I am not the one going to jump off a bridge."

"I was just looking at the water!"

"And thinking about your dead friend?"

"Seriously?" she stopped him. "What are you, a shrink?"

"A forensic psychologist. I work for the Moscow police."

She was still waiting for him to say he was also a witch or a werewolf or something that would explain why she couldn't compel him. When he left it at that, being boring and utterly human, she was lost for words.

"Okay, I'm confused. Are you going to arrest me or psychoanalyze me?"

"Depends. Which is more dangerous - being alone with yourself or walking alone by yourself?"

Hope jaw dropped - this guy was unbelievable _\- _and on top of his confusing if not inappropriate questions he hadn't the slightest clue he was talking to one of the most powerful creatures on earth.

Sort of. She wasn't feeling particularly empowered at the moment.

"I should go…." she announced, trying to end the conversation - again. "Thanks for everything though."

"Let me at least escort you back to your hotel."

"I don't have a hotel."

"No? Staying with friends then?"

"I had one friend. She died. So no."

He frowned, his eyes dropping with concern to the plastic bag in her hand.

"You must be staying somewhere."

"It was on my to-do list. Look, there was an…incident... at the airport," she lied, "and I was robbed. They took all my cash and cards... and clothes."

"But you have a passport?"

Hope was about to say 'yes' when she realized she probably shouldn't tell the cop who thinks she's American about her fake Russian passport.

"Actually... that was stolen too."

He looked at her curiously for a moment before nodding definitely.

"No worry. We will get you a temporary one at the Embassy tomorrow. You will need it if you plan to stay - or leave - this country. Also, we can see about getting you some money. I will take you there first thing in the morning - you can stay at my flat tonight."

"Excuse me?" Hope coughed, assuming she has just misheard him. "_What?"_

"You will stay with me?"

"No! No way am I going home with some random man I just met!"

"Not the most dangerous thing you have done today..."

She bit her lip, not even bothering to defend herself anymore.

"No," she took off again. "This is ridiculous."

"Do you have another place to sleep?" he shouted after her.

"Well, no," she paused, turning back around. "But -"

"Then come with me. Please," he almost begged. "I live with my mother, my wife and our three year old son. The sofa is very comfortable and my wife is an excellent cook. I swear on the soul of my _babushka_ you have nothing to fear from me. My mother…is another story."

He laughed and Hope only found this all the more suspicious. Still, at least there was nothing she couldn't manage within her hybrid abilities - and she didn't exactly feel like sleeping on the streets.

"Thank you," she mumbled. "For the offer, and for…what you did back there. I guess. I don't know."

"Russian rivers are no place for young ladies."

"My only rule is no shrink stuff."

"Deal," he smiled, offering her his arm. Hope wrinkled her nose at the oddly familiar gesture.

She surprised herself, however, taking the stranger's arm and letting him lead her off the bridge.

"So perhaps I have earned the knowing of your name?" he asked at length.

"My... name?" Hope hesitated.

"You do have one?" he laughed. "Or was that stolen too?"

She rolled her eyes, but again found herself smiling.

"It's Hannah," she had decided. "Hannah Marshall."

"Well then, Hannah Marshall, you have come to a beautiful city. You must stay a few days and see it all."


	57. A Year Without Rain Part I

Ilya could not believe it had nearly been a year already.

He sat down in the window of his tiny neighborhood cafe. Scanning the narrow interior, he searched eagerly for his favorite waitress. He had been looking forward to hearing her laugh after a stressful morning at the precinct.

This weekly ritual was the only time their busy lives intersected anymore.

He didn't see Hannah right away; perhaps the owner had her working in the back again. Frowning slightly, Ilya reminded himself to talk to Nikita about this. While her language skills may not have been strong enough to interact with the customers at first, Hannah had tremendously improved her Russian over the course of the year.

Easing off his coat, he turned but a second to hang it over the back of the chair. Before his scarf was even off she was placing two porcelain cups in front of him.

"I could set my clock by you," she beamed. "Right on time."

He watched her fill his cup carefully and reflected on the woman who now stood before him: _Hannah Marshall_, the bridge girl, the lost American who had been so crushed by the death of her best friend but had come so far since then.

"It makes me happy to see you happy," he remarked in general.

"Well, it's impossible to be sad in the spring," she smiled, slipping a notepad from her apron. "Can I get you anything else?"

"I am good…unless you have still those black and white cookies today?"

"Sorry," she hated to tell him, "sold the last one about a minute before you got here. Tell you what: I'll bring some around Friday. I have the weekend off and it's been forever since I've played with Yuri. How is he - and your wife?"

"Always asking about you."

"Then I'll be sure to bring an extra dozen when I come over."

Hannah's generosity was as famous as her cookies and Ilya knew his family would enjoy having her as a guest again.

He worried, however, why she was not working during the busy weekend when the money was the best. Her flat, although the rent was paid weekly, was by no means cheap - and everything in this city had a price.

"Don't let Nikita cut your hours. He owes me this favor and he gave me his word that he would pay you a fair wage."

"He is," she assured him. "In fact, he just gave me a raise, said I don't sound like a robot when I speak Russian anymore."

"And no one has been giving you trouble?"

"Are you asking if I've been causing it?" she laughed.

"I just want to know you are all set, Hannah. On your own."

"I am," she smiled gratefully, "and I can't thank you enough for everything you've done. Bringing over some cookies is the least I can do by way of a thank you."

He nodded quickly, pausing to sip from his coffee. Months ago when Hannah had tried to run out on his hospitality, he had suspected her flightiness had something to do with the counterfeit passport she thought he hadn't noticed.

But she wasn't a criminal - she was grieving - and deporting Hannah was not the same as sending her home. So he had promised to help this eager expatriate stay in Russia if she promised she would go home - and back to her family - on her own when she was ready - when she had healed from the loss of her friend.

And in the meantime, he had found her a job that paid cash under the table - though not very much.

"You only must ask if you need help with your rent," he reminded her.

She set down the pot loudly on the table, flustered by his request. Ilya said the same thing every week and every week she politely refused his offer.

Sitting down across from him, she frowned.

"I'm good for the money, _really_. Let's just say I have this diet that lets me save a ton on groceries. And I've picked up teaching English on the weekends which makes up the difference. I've even started to save up a bit."

"Not paying taxes must help," he chuckled.

"I just don't like feeling like I'm stealing - taking advantage of people. I'm trying to do things honest here."

"Then how exactly did you do them back home?" he fished innocently.

"Hey," she called him on it, "no shrink stuff. Remember our deal?"

He nodded in agreement, returning to his coffee and casually changing the topic.

"My neighbor Valentin asked about you again - about Saturday, if you are free."

"Oh," she said almost shyly. "I forgot I owe him an answer…"

"He is a very good man. He is going to be a doctor."

"No, I like him. He's nice, it's just…"

She pulled her cup in closer and wrapped her hands sadly around it.

"I'm not ready yet."

"But you have been here almost a year, Hannah. It is no good—"

"—to be alone. I know - but I'm just not ready to get close to anyone like that."

"You mean again," he understood.

"Again," she echoed miserably.

Finally serving herself from the pot, she loaded her coffee with sugar in an effort to sweeten the conversation. She liked talking to Ilya, but their pleasant weekly chats always seemed to sour as soon as he made her think of Leah - or Aidan - or anyone who had left her.

But she felt even worse about the people _she_ had left, and about the things she had said to her parents - to Elijah. Her eyes lowered with shame at the memory of how cruel she had been to him most of all - and how careless she had been with her grief.

She wondered where Elijah was now. If anyone had even heard from him since Leah.

Ilya saw the despondency dance across her face.

"A ruble for your thoughts?"

"It's nothing…" she brushed him off. "Just planning how to break it off with Valentin."

"And what about you and I, Hannah Marshall - are you leaving me too?"

She looked up from her own cup, smiling in relief when she realized he was teasing.

"Oh, for _sure_," she joked. "Especially if you keep up this undercover shrink stuff."

"I have no idea what you mean," he feigned offense. "I am simply being a friend."

"Well, a _friend _would have probably wished me happy birthday by now."

"No," he breathed in shock. "It cannot be today…"

"It is," she said simply. "April fifteenth."

"I feel terrible…"

"No, don't! It's not like you could have known. I mean I kinda forgot it myself..."

He noticed how she let the sadness swallow up the end of her sentence.

"Join us tonight," he planned on the spot. "We must celebrate all together."

"Ilya, please don't go out of your way for me – it's just a birthday. I don't even like mine."

"But how is that possible? A birthday is the one day when it is all about you."

She must have put to much sugar in her coffee. She felt nauseous.

"Let's just forget about it," she slowly rose to her feet. "I should get back to work."

"Sit, Hannah," he apologized. "Stay. I did not mean to upset you."

"I'm fine," she lied. "Table three just needs a refill."

Taking the pot in her hands she took off across the café. Ilya shook his head watching her go. He only wanted to help but he had pushed too far – she was right. He was simply her friend, not her therapist. Still, people did not forget their own birthdays on accident.

His thoughts were dispersed by the gunfire.

Out on the street people were scrambling. Above the commotion came the sound of squealing wheels…

Another round of bullets and the window beside him shattered.

It came down around him in large jagged panels. Screams had erupted all around the café as the patrons dove under the tables to protect themselves from the drive-by assault. He knew he had been hit; the blood felt hot against the cold draft that now blew through the café.

Sliding from his chair, he hadn't realized it would come to this...

And to complicate matters, Hannah was instantly at his side.

"You need to get out of here," he warned her, trying to push her away.

"Me?" she inhaled. "Ilya, you've been shot! What should I do?"

"Nothing. It is only a graze. Hannah, leave me. I will be fine. You must go."

But the side of his shirt was growing darker with blood. She felt her fangs begin to itch for release, but forced herself to stay focused. She had been hiding away her supernatural abilities for so long that she had almost forgotten she had the power to heal.

But as she went to bite into her wrist, she was faced with a difficult decision. The easy fix of vampire blood wasn't worth the risk of exposing Hope Mikaelson - especially to a man who couldn't be compelled.

She couldn't jeopardize the stable, normal existence she had earned herself. It was not quite happiness, but it was something worth protecting all the same.

So she lowered her wrist and did it the old fashion way.

"I'm calling you an ambulance."

"Hannah, don't –"

"That's clearly the blood loss talking. Just try not to move."

She dug the phone from her apron but he lowered her arm with his hand.

"Put it down," he begged her.

But she ignored him, and when she started punching in the emergency code he simply knocked the phone out of her hand.

"_What did you do that for?!"_

Ilya just gave her a look, a look her father used to give her, the look that said 'there are things I am not telling you but only to protect you.'

And it annoyed her beyond belief.

"Tell me," she demanded, cursing his immunity to compulsion. "What's going on?"

"There are people after me. That is all I will say. Now go."

"After you?" she gasped. "_Like with guns?"_

"I owe something very big to someone very powerful – which is why you must go _now_. I do not want you involved in this, Hannah Marshall."

"But -"

"And the police will be here soon - so you cannot be here when they arrive. You know why."

She did. She also understood that it was more than just his job in danger.

"Who's after you, Ilya?"

"Hannah - _uhodi._ Now."

She hated being sent away; it hurt above everything else. It reminded her of Leah and made her feel like she was abandoning a friend. Why was everyone always trying to protect her? When would it be her turn to pay them all back?

She considered staying with him and simply compelling the police to ignore her illegal presence in their country – but then a terrifying thought crossed her mind. If she couldn't compel Ilya then maybe she couldn't compel anyone on the force.

Maybe they were protected. Maybe they were on vervain...

Some sort of trouble was definitely heading her way.

Sirens could be heard approaching. Ilya was giving her the look again.

"Fine, I'm going. I'm going. This is ridiculous."

Still, she was not at all happy about leaving him. She turned to Ilya one last time with a scowl.

"Don't call the hospital. Don't wait for the police. Run away from the scene of a crime. Anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes," he managed to smile. "Maybe you could not mention this to my wife."


	58. A Year Without Rain Part II

Hayley was in no mood to play hide and seek and yet here she was looking for Klaus - again. At least she had an idea where he was this time - and who he was with. Of course they would pick today of all days to skip town and go on a bender.

Parking along the side of the road she took to the woods on foot. Despite its rugged rurality nowadays even the bayou seemed more populated than the Quarter. New Orleans had become a ghost town following Mikael's attack. All of the Factions remained leaderless and the community itself remained scattered; both supernatural and human alike - everyone was missing someone and had chosen to mourn them alone.

And like a living creature with a heart of its own, the Quarter itself was suffering. Rousseau's was still a burnt-out shell and the entire block had been closed off since the fire. The lack of business had hurt the locals hard and many had been forced to move across the river to survive. Even the tourists seemed to shy away from the destruction; there was just no one left with the spirit - or the money - to restore all the damage done by Mikael.

It had been a difficult year for everyone.

But for the Mikaelsons there was no single word to describe the last ten months.

Hayley found Klaus by the lake. The sun had just begun to dip below the water and the sky was bright orange and pale pink all at once. Its light reflected off the hybrid's golden hair as he sat on the edge of the dock with slumped shoulders.

Aidan sat beside him looking equally depressed.

And extremely inebriated.

"I expected one of you to be drunk today – but _both_ of you?"

"Finally," Klaus grumbled. "Come to join the celebration?"

He raised a bottle of something dark and unlabeled and offered it to Hayley.

"Moonshine. Aidan tells me it's the Crescent speciality..."

"Honestly?" she frowned. "I cannot believe the two of you right now..."

Hayley watched in frustration as Klaus passed the bottle over to his new protégé.

"Have you seriously been out here all day?" she confronted Aidan.

"It's not day-drinking otherwise," he slurred sullenly.

"You realize you missed your meeting with the mayor, right? Today was the day you were supposed to finally propose your big plan to restore the city."

"And I might have," he paused to take a drink, "had I actually written it."

Klaus chuckled with dry amusement, taking the bottle back from the wolf.

"Let him be, Hayley. Your judgment is ruining the festivities."

"Festivities? You call this a party?"

"Well, it's not much of anything until Hope shows up."

"And we've been waiting for a _while_," Aidan moped.

As they continued to pass the bottle between them Hayley stood back and simply observed. She noticed a bouquet of pink carnations next to Aidan on the dock. He had carried them all day and they had wilted in the sun.

Klaus had plucked one of the blooms and stuffed it in his top pocket. It was already browning and starting to die.

It was a sad little party they were throwing for themselves.

But none of this was in any way surprising; Klaus and Aidan had become inseparable in their misery. The two of them were a boys club that sat around all day missing Hope. In fact, the only economy in the Quarter any more was the bars they kept open with their patronage.

And since today was Hope's birthday, they had really thrown it back hard.

"She'll come back," Hayley told them with no particular confidence.

"She better," Klaus snarked. "Someone has to help me eat all this cake."

"Please tell me you're joking..."

"Unfortunately not," Aidan added glibly. "If you want some ice cream you better move fast - it's melting inside. I _told_ Klaus we needed more ice..."

"But_ someone_ was too drunk to help me carry it," he griped, taking the opportunity to reclaim possession of the moonshine.

Hayley just shook her head. Despite the general gloominess of this sad celebration, today was the most animated she had seen either of them in weeks - which was clearly saying something.

"So you two _actually_ came all the way out here to throw Hope a party?"

"Sore you weren't invited?" Klaus muttered.

"Just wondering why you picked the bayou...or did the Quarter run out of booze?"

He simply chuckled, passing on the bottle to Aidan and leaving her without an answer. But Hayley thought she already knew - they were waiting for Hope and had been waiting for her since that morning ten months ago, when the three of them had stood on this very same dock until the mist had burned off the water and they realized she wasn't going to show for the funeral.

They had waited for Elijah as well, but the only one to appear was Liam Thompson. So they had watched him with solemn dignity push his daughter onto the lake. And once the boat carrying Leah began to drift on its own, it was set on fire, in the way of the wolves - and neither Hope nor Elijah had been there to say goodbye.

It was even too sad for Hayley to stomach.

"Fine, give me that," she gave in, swiping the bottle from Aidan.

She took a long swig and grimaced; whatever it was, it burned.

"Ugh," she sputtered, "this is -"

"Not strong enough," he brooded, nevertheless taking back the bottle.

As Aidan drank from it heavily, Hayley took the empty spot besides Klaus on the edge of the dock, stealing a turn from the moonshine next and feeling a little more festive for whatever it was worth.

"I guess this isn't so bad..."

"Does it beat crying alone in your room?" he asked softly.

Hayley was taken aback by his sincerity; she hadn't realized Klaus had even been around the Compound this morning to hear her. She had wanted to be alone, to celebrate her daughter's birthday by hiding herself away in old scrapbooks of happier memories.

So it began to dawn that Klaus hadn't invited her to the bayou because he had known all along that she would want some space today.

She gave him an appreciative nod.

"Ask me again after a few more of these."

Hayley took another drink from the moonshine, wiping her mouth before passing it on.

"So," she asked them with a sigh. "How do you think Hope's spending her birthday?"

"Oh, you know our little princess," Klaus chuckled. "She's compelled some chef in France to make her one of those croquembouche monstrosities."

"Nah," Aidan shook his head, grabbing back the bottle. "Hope's probably in Japan, celebrating on top of a mountain with a bunch of very wise, but very drunk monks."

"Brazil," he was corrected, "dancing away the night."

"Or Egypt! On a cruise down the Nile. Then off to watch the sun rise over the pyramids..."

"…or the Great Wall of China."

"Or Machu Picchu."

"Or the Hanging Gardens of Babylon."

"Which don't exist anymore."

"Oh," Aidan hiccupped. "Yeah, I knew that. I think."

Klaus managed a genuine laugh and even Hayley dared a small little smile.

"Well, wherever she is, I just hope she's happy."

"I'll drink to that!" Aidan toasted, wobbling a bit off the dock.

"Hey - careful," she warned him. "If you end up in the lake I'm not going in to get you."

Hayley confiscated the bottle from the excessively drunk wolf only to have Klaus try to grab it away.

"Nice try. I'm cutting you off too. This stuff's lethal and only one of you is immortal."

"Nonsense, he's fine," Klaus protested. "He's a Thompson after all. They don't go down without a fight."

He had meant it in good spirits but Aidan suddenly didn't feel so well.

"I'll be right back," the wolf rose unsteadily. "I'm just gonna get some air..."

"Some air?" Klaus called after him. "Is the open sky not enough for you?"

When it grew quiet again on the lake he turned to Hayley in confusion.

"What'd I say?"

"Seriously? Was today not bad enough for Aidan without reminding him of Leah?"

"How did I -? _Thompsons._ That's right. I forget she was related to bloody everyone."

"It certainly seems like it. Sometimes I feel like the entire Quarter is mourning her."

"If I could bring Leah back I would - just so Hope would have a reason to come home."

"But since you can't you're just going to drink yourself dead," she glared at him.

"I'm going to bloody damn well try," Klaus waved the bottle at her. "Problem?"

"My problem is you _promised_ you would clean the city up for Hope."

"What do I care about the city? Let it rot."

"And the Faction. It's in chaos -"

"Let them fester. The Quarter's already burned - what worse damage can they do?"

"So that's it? You're just giving up on the Constitution? On everything Elijah -"

"Do not _speak_ of my brother to me," Klaus muttered angrily. "Especially not today."

"It's not his fault Hope left. You know that -"

"I know my brother was the last one who talked to her... and now he's disappeared - unreachable, untraceable - Elijah's fallen off the face of the earth. If he gets to evade his responsibilities, so do I."

"But he _lost _someone - "

"And have I not? Our daughter is _out there_, Hayley - and you were the one who _forbade_ me to go after her."

"I told you to give her time."

"Then don't complain how I choose to spend mine."

Klaus threw back the bottle just as Aidan reappeared on the dock. The color had returned to his face and he was a bit steadier on his feet this time around.

"How you feeling?" Hayley asked him rather smugly.

"I'm done drinking. I swear," he sat back down. "I am not as young as I used to be."

"You'll be fine," she said shortly. "I'll drive you back and you can sleep it off at the Compound. That way you'll be fresh to start on that proposal first thing in the morning."

"Forget about the bloody proposal," Klaus carped. "It's pointless."

"To you maybe - but it's what the city needs to get back on its feet. Hope will come back when there's a home for her to come back to - so if the two of you miss her so damn much maybe you should finally get off your asses and do something about it."

"Spare us," he barked. "As if a few ruined buildings is the reason our daughter hasn't come home. If your new-found humanitarianism lets you sleep at night, so be it, but stop pretending it was a lack of walls and windows that drove Hope away."

He paused to drain the bottle, but finding it already empty sent it flying across the lake. It took less than a second before he had another one in his hands.

Hayley sat back and watched him rip the cork out violently.

"You're better than this," she reminded him.

"Not today I'm not. Go bother Aidan if you're looking for someone who cares."

"Me?" Aidan threw up his hands. "How'd I get dragged into this?"

"Hayley needs a bleeding heart. I volunteer yours."

"To fix the city? Oh, no, I'm not a politician -"

"A little secret," Klaus grabbed his shoulder. "People are sheep. You don't have to be anything but out in front leading the charge."

The wolf exhaled slowly, shaking his head until it made him feel dizzy.

"This is a _bad _idea. I can barely lead my own pack."

"Well, you've barely been sober," Hayley pointed out bluntly.

"But they hate me at City Hall. I haven't been in the office in months..."

"Exactly. It's time to get back to work - and they don't hate you, Aidan. Trust me, everyone has just been worried about you. I'm worried about you - I'm worried about you hanging out with Klaus so much."

"Codswallop," the hybrid bristled. "I haven't been _corrupting_ the poor lad. He is, after all, practically my son-in-law."

"Then maybe he should step up and be someone worthy to marry our daughter."

Aidan immediately sobered.

"I guess I _could_ start on that proposal...I do have some ideas for the mayor..."

He got to his feet so fast Hayley jumped up in case he toppled over.

"Aidan, where are you going?"

"City Hall," he warbled. "l need to get back to the office and start on that proposal ASAP."

"Great idea! Except it's dark, it's _Sunday_ – and you're drunk."

Klaus was laughing. It was impossible to deny that those Thompsons had spirit.

It gave him a wicked idea.

"Don't worry, Hayley," he slowly came to his feet. "I'll see Aidan home myself."

"Should I trust you two together?" she wondered wisely.

"Probably not. New Orleans won't know what hit it come election time."

"Election _what_?" Aidan balked. "I thought I just had to write a proposal!"

"So you can hand all your good ideas over to some imbecile in a suit?"

"But he's in charge - he's the _mayor!_"

"The _outgoing_ mayor. And Hayley's right - this city needs a new leader. So tomorrow we're going to turn your proposal into a platform, because you, Aidan Thompson, are running for mayor."

**End of Part 7**


	59. What He Wrote

**Part 8**

This was not the sort of town that deserved to be on anyone's map. The only thing worth seeing was the desert in bloom in summer, but even then it was too hot to sleep and the bugs ate you alive while you tried.

Rachel didn't mind the heat because at least it wasn't humid like where she'd grown up. It had nearly been fours years since she'd moved across the Great Plains with all that would fit in the back of her car. She'd been aiming for Salt Lake but couldn't read a map to save her life. Like they seemed to say around here, the only folks who came to this town were people lost one way or another.

Which was why the Mesquite Moon diner rarely saw a new face. The regulars were all locals and they came in every night for dinner all at once like a pack of hungry wolves. She had easily impressed them by learning all their names within a week. Rachel was usually good with putting faces to names, which was why she was so frustrated with herself at the moment. She was certain she knew the guy in the suit from _somewhere._

In the last booth at the end he sat with a cold cup of coffee and a black book. He was writing in it, meticulously, and she wondered if he were by chance an accountant, or an undertaker, or some other grim profession in charge of a ledger because of the way he was dressed.

As she set about refilling the empty ketchup bottles, Rachel glanced over with a slight frown. She had been lucky to have been able to find work in a town that didn't particularly seem to like outsiders, but with her mane of blonde hair and pageant queen smile at least she could easily blend. He, on the other hand, had drawn everyone's attention. She wasn't the only one shooting him looks but at least she lacked their prejudiced suspicion.

It was far too hot for him to be wearing all those layers; the sun had gone down but the fan still worked overtime as it whirled back and forth on the counter. Clearly he was not from around here, but then again he didn't exactly appear to be lost - not geographically speaking at least.

Rachel was still racking her brain trying to place his face when her coworker swooped in with yet another tray of half-emptied condiments.

"You done with that batch? Wanna switch?"

"Oh, no sorry," she apologized meekly. "Got distracted..."

"By Mr. Handsome down there at the end?"

"Marlene, hush! He's gonna hear you."

"Well I don't hear you denyin' it," the brunette teased. She pulled a short slip of paper from her apron pocket and passed it over the counter. "Here, I'm clocking out in a bit. He's the last of my tables. Make sure to write your number on it big and obvious."

Rachel took the check from Marlene, rolling her eyes as the other woman just laughed. She had no intention to pass the poor man her number - or humor the others even a little bit. The waitresses had been pushing her to make a gentlemen friend ever since she let it slip that she didn't particularly want one.

Abandoning her chore, she slowly approached the well-dressed stranger, more than a bit nervous to be interrupting him. Whatever he was writing had his full attention, so she cleared her throat loudly and took a bold step forward.

"Whenever you're ready. Honestly, no rush."

Placing his check on the table, she backed away, lingering just a moment in case he wished to order something else - not that he had touched what he already had.

He acknowledged her only by closing the book and setting the pen down beside it. Sliding a hand under the lapels of his jacket, he produced several bills folded neatly in half with a polished silver clip.

"For your trouble," he caught her eye, setting the note on the table.

"Thanks. I'll be right back with your change."

"That will not be necessary."

Rachel felt very confused - and more than a tad bit silly - just standing there with her mouth open and a hundred dollar bill in her hand.

"You...you sure? Positive I can't get you anything else?"

As he hid his money away again, his dark brown eyes traveled down to her neck with an invasive intensity that dissipated when he simply nodded and went back to his writing.

Rachel knew she should probably thank the nice man for his generous tip but he didn't particularly seem eager for conversation and his silence was clearly compelling her to leave him alone. So she probably should have walked away at this point and not continued to hover awkwardly beside his table, but everything from his suit to his voice just seemed so darn familiar that she couldn't let it go.

She had to ask.

"By any chance...are you visiting from New Orleans?"

He looked up at her and narrowed those familiar eyes.

"You are!" she squeaked. "I knew it! I _knew _I recognized you coming in here. You used to live in the Quarter - on Royal, right? Gosh, I remember it now. That place was so big I thought it was a castle...but then again I was like sixteen and dumb as a rock."

When he just looked at her steadily Rachel worried she'd run her mouth a bit too much. Or maybe she was just wrong, that was also a possibility. If only she could remember his name...

"Let me try - is it Mitchelson? Or Michaels? Tell me if I'm close," she smiled.

Well she most definitely had his attention now.

"You know who I am?" he said rather skeptically.

And though it had been five, six years - Rachel was sure she did. Mr. Mitchelson, or Michaels, or whatever his name was - the man hadn't aged a day; he looked exactly the same as the night of her friend's graduation party, though a great deal less friendly and slightly more intimidating.

"Well, sorta," she felt bad for saying now that she lead him on. "I just recognized you from the one time we met. It was a big party. My friend introduced us. Said you were nice and that you thought she was real nice too."

"Your friend sounds rather presumptuous."

"Yeah, that sounds about right actually. She was like that. Anyway, sorry to be bothering you. Just had to make sure I wasn't going crazy."

Her eyes fell sympathetically on his untouched cup of coffee.

"You sure you don't want a fresh one? It's no trouble at all I swear."

"Then perhaps I will," he said in better spirits. "Thank you, Miss -?''

"St. Ann. Rachel St. Ann."

Rachel had turned to grab the coffee pot before she could witness the impact of her revelation. It was just a name after all, and not even hers. The great state of Louisiana had slapped it on her the day she had become their responsibility.

Sliding up to the counter, she waved Marlene over excitedly for a huddle.

"You will _never_ believe-"

"How you managed to scare off your future husband?"

Spinning around, Rachel was shocked to realize her coworker was right. The man she had just been talking to was nowhere in sight, although his black book still sat at the edge of the table.

"Now, that's odd..."

"What'd you say to him?" Marlene tutted.

"Nothing! I just gave him my name."

Retracing her steps, she walked up to the empty booth, gently picking up the forgotten book with a curious frown. Marlene, attracted by the mystery, had eagerly trailed her.

"Ooh, give it. I want to see."

She tried to protest, but the brunette had already snatched the book away.

Marlene had grown up around enough cattle to know fine leather when she felt it. The journal was weighty in her hands and smelled like dust after the rain. Creasing open the binding, she flipped to the first page to start reading aloud.

Rachel grabbed it back before she could.

"Ever heard of _manners_, Marlene. You don't just go reading into people's personal things. Gosh, I swear you were raised by wolves..."

"Oh, com'on. Grown man keeps a diary and you're not even a _little _interested to see what he's been writing about?"

"No...and weren't you going _home_?" Rachel recalled pointedly.

Marlene laughed, peeling off her apron and balling it up with a smirk.

"Oh...kay, but if that fine man comes back don't mess it up this time, you hear me?"

"I'll make sure to give it back to him," was all she promised.

/

It was an hour before closing but Rachel was already wiping down the table tops in the empty diner. She didn't expect anyone else to come in this late and the other waitresses had gone home early since it had been slow after dinner anyway.

But she had stayed, if only because she felt some personal responsibility to wait it out just in case the man returned for his book.

_Mikaelson_ \- that was his name! She felt terribly stupid for bumbling it earlier.

The presence of the journal nagged her as it sat on the crisp counter by the money till. Mr. Mikaelson didn't seem like the sort of man to go leaving important things in insignifiant places. Something had spooked him - or maybe she was just overthinking it. Surely he had been called away on business. That would certainly explain the suit.

She debated taking a peek inside to try to find a phone number.

Or maybe to read just one or two _teeny_, tiny entries...

Sighing, she tossed her rag aside and gave in to the temptation. Thank goodness Marlene wasn't still around to give her grief over what she was about to do. After drying her hands on her apron, Rachel scooped up the journal and opened it wide.

Inside, there was no name or number or address. It simply began like this:

_June 4_

_I have placed a lock upon our home. I have not entered and I shall never again. I cannot live in a house that you haunt._

_June 7_

_Niklaus calls constantly. I do not answer. He has nothing to say to me._

_June 12_

_I am leaving. This city holds nothing for me except memories of you. It bears down upon me with a weight I can no longer endure. Everywhere I turn they ask for you. I have no more lies to tell them but cannot bring myself to speak aloud the truth._

Rachel glanced up guiltily. She knew she should stop reading but...

She began to flip faster, skimming quickly through the entries.

_July 15_

_My days pass in mindless indulgences. I have made a glutton of myself in the foul dens of this country but remain unable to find anything to ease this constant ache. What sickness have you left me with? I fear it shall consume me as utterly as the torch I burn for you even now. _

_I will not set this love aside - I have no strength to face the darkness alone._

_July 22_

_I have lost the week entirely. Time retains me as its prisoner. It offers me freedom at the price of forgetting you. I shall die in chains before I do._

_August 1_

_Europe holds no solace. Every city through which I wander harbors memories of you and drags me painfully down paths of dark nostalgia which end in greater darkness. The ground I walk is cursed and will not let me settle. Where shall I flee that you shall not find me? How shall I find peace if you are not here?_

_August 14_

_Last night I lost you again in a dream. I now fear the night as I do the day. _

_September 6_

_I have found myself tested. There is a woman in the village who bears such a crude resemblance to you she does insult to us both. Even the sound of her laughter causes me offense. I must avoid her. I must not let this grief beckon to the beast inside of me._

_September 16_

_I saw her again and I am undone by the sight of her. She rouses your ghost and a passion inside me, a terrible longing that causes me shame. If this persuasion grows stronger, I fear what I will do._

_September 17_

_There is blood on my hands. Leah, forgive me for what I have done - _

Rachel slammed the cover closed and gasped. Dear Lord, what was she reading? It couldn't be possible, could it? The girl he was writing to - _about_ \- it had to be a coincidence. It had to be another Leah...

The bell above the door jingled loudly and she jumped.

But it was just Marlene.

"Jesus, Marl', you scared me!"

"I just came to get my paycheck. Forgot it earlier. Is that...Rachel St. Ann are you _snooping?_ Tsk. You know what the Bible says about hypocrites..."

"I was just looking for a number..." she lowered the journal shamefaced.

"Uh-huh. Didn't you grow up in a convent or something? Don't they still teach that lying is a sin?"

Marlene smirked, clearly just pulling her leg. She moved behind the money till to enter the security numbers. When the drawer popped out she picked up the tray to pull her check from underneath.

"So, are you gonna read me something or keep all the good gossip to yourself?"

Not waiting for an answer, she pulled the book from Rachel's hands, ignoring her peep of protest.

"Finally! Now let's see what lies behind all that tall, dark, and handsome..."

She opened to a random page and read.

_October 4_

_The change of season brings no peace. The sun itself recalls your light and drives me into the dark. I awake each day to fresh insanity and the horrors I've committed through the night. I have become the monster I never wished for you to know, yet this savagery within me dulls a pain I cannot otherwise bear..._

Marlene's jaw dropped.

"My God, he's a bonafide serial killer!"

"Oh, stop -," she was shushed. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know what I've read with my own eyes! You better cross your heart and hope that man of yours don't come back here looking for _this_."

She shoved the journal back at Rachel, closing the drawer to the till securely.

"You lock up here and get yourself home safe, you hear me?"

"Why are you talking like I'm in danger? I know this man, Marlene. I've met him before. I'm pretty sure he dated a girl I grew up with."

"Uh-huh, and what happened to her?"

"I'm not sure..."

"I bet he killed her."

"Marlene!"

"Well if you're not gonna call the police then at least toss the thing. You know that fancy city-slicker ain't coming back for it. No one gets lost twice on purpose."

Rachel watched her coworker retreat to the parking lot until she was again alone in the empty diner. Turning off the fan for the night, she set down the journal on the counter once more, but not before flipping through the pages hoping to find something to prove Marlene wrong.

She was sure the silly woman had simply never heard of a metaphor; the man wasn't murderous - he was just missing someone terribly. Growing up in New Orleans she had heard all sorts of stories about serial killers and monsters and even _vampires_ \- all the time - but that didn't mean that any of it was even a little bit true.

And the more recent entries didn't read so bad.

_April 2_

_Spring has found me even here. I am certain, however, that Niklaus cannot. It is a certainty that he searches for me, if only that I might tenuate the concern he has always had for his daughter. _

_April 15_

_Hope's birthday. I wish her joy. That is all I am able to do today._

_May 3_

_As the anniversary approaches I am plagued with dreams, but they are not all so terrible anymore. For the first time I have considered returning home, to New Orleans, to you... _

Rachel paused when she heard the linoleum squeak. She hadn't even heard the door open, but there he stood, hands deep in his pockets, eyes boring through her soul.

She suddenly felt very vulnerable.

"How did you...?"

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior - earlier," he stepped forward, "and I believe you have something that belongs to me."

"You mean _this_," she closed the book slowly.

"Please," he extended his hand.

Rachel surrendered the journal, completely red faced.

"I was just...trying to find a name to get it back to you."

He didn't exactly seem to believe her, but he took back his book graciously and kept his eyes on her the whole time.

"My name is Elijah. _Mikaelson._"

"I was close," she laughed nervously, fidgeting with her now empty hands. Although he had retrieved his missing property he was still standing there staring her down like she was guilty of a whole lot more than snooping.

She started to wonder if Marlene may have been right.

"So...uh. We're kinda closing but is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Rachel St. Ann."

"Yeah..?."

"Amazing."

"Uh...what's amazing?" she looked around confused.

"Nothing," he smiled, although it was ominous and tense. "It's simply that...well, it appears that I have come all this way only to arrive back where I started."

"I don't...I don't know what you mean..."

She took a cautious step back and leaned against the counter.

"You do not need to be afraid," he told her sincerely. "It is not my goal to draw unwanted attention, particularly when I find myself in a town overrun by wolves."

"What do you mean _wolves_?" she wrinkled her nose. "Like coyotes?"

"Excuse me," he apologized, though he seemed disappointed. "I had imagined you were already aware of the exact breed of your associates. I had figured that was the reason you moved here from New Orleans."

"I moved because they kicked you out of Holy Cross at eighteen."

"Yet you kept the name they gave you...St. Ann. Just like your friend."

"You're still in touch with Leah?" she asked hopefully.

"For a while...but no more."

"Oh," she realized crestfallen. "So the Leah we both knew, from your journal -"

"Is dead, yes."

His gaze ghosted across the ground and he took a step back. Perhaps he had only lingered at all to tell her the sad news.

"I must go," he seemed to regret, "but I wish you well, Rachel St. Ann."

"But where are you going?" she called after him. "Are you ever returning to New Orleans?"

"Are you?" he asked, meeting her eyes one last time.

Rachel clasped her hands miserably, feeling a sadness that wasn't all her own.

"Well, I think it would be lovely just to see it one more time."

"And perhaps, one day, we will," he agreed and slowly walked away.


	60. Political Animals

Aidan sat up straight, smoothed down his tie, and took a deep breath.

"Okay, let's do this."

"Mr. Thompson," his interview began, "thank you for joining us. We are happy to have you here in the studio to discuss your platform and the upcoming election this Tuesday."

"Yes, and thank you for the opportunity to reach out to so many of the great citizens of New Orleans who are watching live this morning."

He flashed an All-American smile, genuine in his appreciation.

His interviewer didn't seem at all impressed.

"Aidan Thompson, you are officially the _youngest _man to ever run for mayor of New Orleans…do you see your age as a disadvantage in this race?"

"Not at all. Quite the opposite in fact."

"How so?"

"I was born and raised in this city and in my twenty-nine years here in New Orleans I have personally witnessed time and again how we come together as a community in the wake of tragedy."

"You are referring to the events of April last year?"

"To the unnecessary and senseless murders in the French Quarter, yes."

"Yet another unfortunate page, it seems, in a long history of violence."

"Violence that no longer needs to be part of this city's legacy. There are factions in our community that have been divided for far too long; peace, I believe, can be achieved, once we are able to mend these broken relationships. Now, that's not anything that will happen overnight, but as mayor I vow to lead the effort to make New Orleans safe again."

"And as mayor, Mr. Thompson, what will you stand for?"

"Integrity - in all matters. Respect - towards all. Hope - for a better tomorrow. I have dedicated my life to helping us - as a city - move forward – push forward. Through my work in City Hall I have increased incentives for small businesses, found new sources of funding for St. Ann's programs for underprivileged children, and encouraged the preservation of some of our city's oldest traditions. But above all else, I know this city inside and out and I know what it needs to get back on it feet. I think the voters will all agree that it is times like these when a _youthful_ energy - and tireless passion - is needed more than ever."

His interviewer nodded, seemingly pleased with his response.

"Thank you, for your answer. Moving on - we all watched you last Thursday take on your opponent in your third televised debate. The issue of the night was the recovery effort in the French Quarter. Can you remind the viewers at home what you have done so far to revive the heart of the Crescent City?"

Aidan shifted in his suit, pausing to collect his thoughts.

"It's no secret," he began, "that my family owns many of the casinos in this town."

"A fact your opponent has brought to the forefront of this election."

"Some might choose to make this an issue instead of focusing on the real issues at hand, but the truth is that when the Guerrera family ran foul of the law my family was able to step in and save the casinos – a vital part of our city's tourism industry. But my family differs from the Guerreras in one important way – we realize the necessity of giving back to our community. Therefore, we the Thompsons have promised to give back to all you sitting in your homes right now; we have donated over ten million dollars toward restoring New Orleans and we plan to increase our pledges in the future."

"And do you believe money alone can solve all our city's problems?"

Aidan shifted in his suit, starting to feel the pressure.

"Now, I'm not saying that," he paused before continuing, "but I will admit it's a start. Much of the Quarter, including Rousseau's, is currently under renovation - and that requires funding. Public sources have been insufficient for years – we don't need to be afraid of private funding to help our city grow. It's a hand up not a hand out."

"Thank you, Mr. Thompson. I think we have time for one more question."

"Please."

"Why are you running for mayor?"

He blanked on the answer and the consequences were immediate. Klaus hurled an ice cube from across the room and hit him squarely in the chest.

"Was that _really_ necessary?" Aidan wondered, brushing the ice from his lap.

From his spot on the couch in the Compound, he groaned and sat back. The two hybrids had been preparing him all day for his TV spot in the morning, with Hayley reading him the script and Klaus coaching his answers.

Though when it came to coaching, Klaus was a tad - _passionate. _He paced behind the sofa with a tumbler in hand, the rest of the ice fortunately having found its way into his glass.

"You've memorized these answers, Thompson. Now all I ask is that you deliver them _flawlessly._"

"It's not my fault. Hayley asked a question that wasn't in the cards."

"Well it should be," she leaned forward, "because if you get asked why you're running your answer can't be 'Klaus Mikaelson made me do it.'"

"He didn't make me do anything – I _want _to be mayor."

"Then you should start bloody acting like it," Klaus rebuffed him, shoving the bourbon into the wolf's hand. "Now again. From the top."

Aidan took the glass and sighed.

"Can't we take a break? We've been at this for hours."

"You're on the campaign trail. You can break once you win."

"Then I shouldn't drink. I can't be even a little drunk for my interview."

"Unfortunately. You're far less pretentious when you are."

"_Klaus_," Hayley rolled her eyes, reshuffling her cue cards. "Cut Aidan some slack. He's doing good, especially given how stupid half these questions are…"

"Except 'good' isn't good enough when we've been working _months_ for this," he grumbled. "I have not been dirtying my hands with the pretenses of political society only to let shoddy answers lose us the keys to the city. We must give our daughter a reason to return - and this is it."

"It's _November_," she sighed, "she's been gone over a year. Do you really think Hope's going to come back just to _vote_?"

Klaus scowled, snatching the tumbler back and ignoring Hayley's question entirely.

"Pull yourself together," he slapped Aidan on the back. "Since you have _insisted_ I not compel the election office that means you will actually need to win this race on your own."

Aidan frowned, wondering what he had gotten himself into by allowing Klaus Mikaelson to be his campaign manager. Still, he had his reasons for running for mayor and Hayley was right – they needed to shine through.

So he sat up straight, smoothed down his tie, and took a deep breath.

"Okay, let's do this. Again."

\

Hayley found Aidan later that night in the kitchen.

"Hey," she leaned against the counter, noticing he was fixing a drink. "Night-cap?"

"Just water for me. Gotta be sober as a judge tomorrow, remember?"

He closed the freezer door and looked down at the tray of ice cubes in his hand.

"I'm surprised I can even look at these," he laughed.

"You did good today," she encouraged him. "Don't let Klaus tell you otherwise."

"He's just doing his job. Gotta push hard if you want results. I see why they call him King of the Quarter now. Klaus knows what he's doing, and he's not a bad teacher either - once you get past all the corporal punishment."

"I'm still really impressed you had the courage to ask him to marry Hope. A bit old-fashioned though, don't you think?"

"To be honest, I was playing it safe. Pretty sure I'm the only man in the whole history of time with the unique …uh, _opportunity_ of having hybrids as potential in-laws."

Hayley arched a brow in amusement, watching him pop the ice out of its tray and into a large glass of water.

"How very diplomatic of you to say," she smirked. "You're learning."

"I'm trying," he grabbed his glass, "though I can't help but feel like this whole mayor thing is Klaus' way of testing me or something."

"Then you should be glad Elijah's not around. If you think Klaus is giving you a shakedown, Elijah would outright put you through the wringer. He'd make you win yourself an actual kingdom before even thinking about popping the question."

"Are there still some of those up for grabs?"

"You could probably buy one off Klaus."

"You Mikaelsons set the bar high," Aidan laughed. "If Leah was here she'd just high five me and get me drunk."

Hayley lowered her eyes and trailed her hand across the counter thoughtfully.

"You miss her, don't you?"

"I know she was only a half-sister - that I never even knew I had - but still, yeah, everyday in a way I do. Even with my dad running the pack again and the city on the mend, sometimes it feels like everything's just limping along without her. Which reminds me, wanted to ask - but not around Klaus: any luck trying to track down Elijah? If anyone could give me actual, non-murderous, advice about getting a rein in on the Factions, it's the man who led them successfully."

"No, nothing on the radar, though I've tried. I don't think he wants to be found."

"Figures," Aidan moped. "I know how I'm coping but I can only imagine how he is. Coming back to New Orleans to help _me _of all people is probably the last thing he wants to do."

Hayley sensed the conversation had shifted. They weren't talking about Elijah anymore.

"Hope's not avoiding you, Aidan, because you'll remind her of Leah."

"Then why has she gone off the grid? It's been over a year and she hasn't even tried to get in contact with me."

"Well, she might not actually know you're alive…"

"_Great,_" he sighed into his hands.

"Look at it this way," she tried to console him. "Maybe wherever she is, Hope will tune in tomorrow and see your face on TV and realize you're alive and kicking and running for mayor."

"Another reason for me not to mess it up big time."

"Stop. You'll be great. You're a natural leader – just remember to focus on why you're doing all this – not for Klaus, not for Hope. You have to have a reason for running and it has to be your own."

"Good advice - can you be my campaign coach instead?"

"Hold that thought until you've heard me out. I actually came down here to talk to you about something - something even more important than this election."

"I'm all ears," he perked up, setting aside his water. He watched with growing curiosity as Hayley pulled a small glass tube from her pocket and slid it across the counter.

It rolled slightly and Aidan carefully scooped it up, inspecting its dark contents as he held the vial up to the light.

He frowned, squinting.

"Is this what I think it is?"

"It's Hope's blood."

"Jesus…why is this a thing that you even have?"

"Years ago a witch named Davina needed Hope's blood for a de-siring spell – long story. Anyway, I made sure we had extra, just in case - I've had that since."

"So what's the special occasion? Why are you bringing it out now?"

"It's for you," she said plainly. "In case you want it."

Aidan started laughing. He knew the Mikaelsons were a bit creepy but this was outright grotesque.

He shook the vial incredulous.

"Am I being hazed...or is this some weird vampire family bonding ritual? Because with all due respect I'm a little terrified to even ask what I should do with this."

"Depends," she said simply. "Do you know how a wolf becomes a hybrid?"

He turned to her seriously, lowering the vial and clutching it in a tight fist.

"Why?" he asked sternly. "Why me?"

"Like you said. Family bonding. If you're serious about Hope, then it's a serious option you should consider."

The wolf inside Aidan immediately refused.

"You want me to turn myself into a _vampire_," he accused her, "so I can spend all eternity being a puppet for Klaus Mikaelson?"

"Is that how you felt when you accepted his moonlight ring?"

"I felt he trusted me -"

" - and he does – and I do – we trust you with our daughter. So consider this an early wedding present – neither of us are forcing this on you, Aidan."

"I won't do it –"

"Just think on it. Hold onto it. That's all I'm here to tell you. The rest is up to you; just make sure you have your reasons and they aren't Klaus – or even Hope. If you do this, make sure you do it for yourself."


	61. Bringing Down the House

Truth be told, she felt right at home. After all, she had grown up in a casino town.

A waiter offered her another drink but Hope waved him away - she needed to focus. Despite the cool confidence of her appearance she was starting to feel the pressure; after what felt like forever the blackjack table was finally hot.

If she was going to win big it was now or never.

The dealer set two cards in front of her: one face-up, one face-down.

"Gentlemen - _miss _\- please place your bets."

Drumming her fingers into the soft green felt, Hope worked out a number in her head. She halved her chips, pushing the towering stack forward and ignoring the murmurs that rose up around her.

As waiters refreshed their brandy, the men chatted amongst themselves, cigars hanging from their mustached mouths as they debated the motives of Miss Lady Luck in her red dress.

The man to her right laughed at her risky wager.

"Are you sure, _malenkaya_? Where did you to learn to play so recklessly?"

"I'm from New Orleans. Let's just say it's in my blood."

"You're a long way from home," another added. "And terribly out of your league."

The circle of gamblers all laughed at her. Hope ignored them as the dealer flipped over her card.

"Fifteen. What will it be?"

"Hit me."

"...and eight makes 23. House wins."

"_Damn."_

Hope bit her lip - frustrated. She hated to think she was proving everyone right - and worse that she was letting down Ilya. He hovered at her side, holding the same drink he had been holding for an hour and periodically tossing restless glances across the casino floor.

"Hannah - I think we must go."

"Just one more round. And this time I'm all in."

She pushed the rest of her chips forward. All of them.

Ilya closed his eyes and said a prayer. Dear Lord, what had he gotten them both into? Though he was just a spectator at the table he was already beginning to sweat - and not just because Hannah was betting everything on a single hand.

Cops and casinos did not mix; it was only a matter of time before someone recognized him - and then money wouldn't be the only thing on the line.

Dark figures shifted on the sidelines, staring at them. Pointing at them.

Gripping her shoulder, Ilya leaned in to whisper.

"Hannah, last round. Promise me."

"I promised I would help you. We're not leaving until I do."

"But there are other ways -"

"Shh," she waved him away. "Just trust me. I know what I'm doing."

The table grew quiet as the cards were dealt again.

"All bets are in," the dealer announced. "You sir? What will it be?"

"Stand," said the man to her right.

"Stand it is. And you, sir?"

"Hit," said the other one assuredly.

"Ten it is."

"Then stand."

"Very well, and you miss, what will it be?"

From the corner of her eyes Hope saw them all watching her. Laughing at her.

Underestimating her.

"Hit me."

"Then that's five…and seventeen," the dealer totaled. "Your move."

The table went dead silent. Everyone turned to her expectantly. They all held their breath.

For a second Hope did as well. And then -

"Hit me again."

"As you wish. That's seventeen and...four. Twenty-one. Congratulation. You win."

Hope leaned back in her chair as the table erupted into unenthusiastic applause.

"And with that, I am done for the night."

She rose gracefully on her heels and took the voucher from the dealer.

"Time to cash out," she waved it at Ilya. "And _then _we can go. So relax."

"I will feel better once we leave," he trailed her nervously.

"You'll feel better without people shooting at you."

"But that was every cent you had saved, Hannah. You should not have risked it all for me."

"Ilya, it was nothing. I could make the money back - easily. A friend like you however...not so much."

She leaned against the counter and pushed the voucher under the protective glass.

"How do you want it?" the teller asked in rapid Russian.

"Biggest bills you've got," she answered fluently with a smile. "See, what did I say, Ilya? In and out without incident. By this time tomorrow you'll be _free_."

When the teller slid her winnings under the glass she immediately passed the stack of bills across to him.

"All yours. Don't spend it all in one place."

"Hannah, you can't.."

"Yeah, I can," she nodded eagerly. "I just did."

"But it's too much - "

"Exactly. That's more than enough to clear your debt. Now come on. Let's go."

Ilya quickly stuffed the outrageous amount of money out of sight as they started for the door.

"They're going to think you cheated," he warned her. "And if the House realizes I work for the police - I'm in trouble."

"You're already in trouble. That's why I'm bailing you out."

Hope pushed through the doors, leaving the casino floor and entering the grandly decorated foyer. At the other end was the main entrance and the doors out onto the parking lot.

But they found their way blocked.

Two large men in ill-fitted suits stood arms crossed in front of the exit. Between them was a shorter man, though the diamonds on his watch and cufflinks were evidently trying to compensate. He was silver-haired and grim-faced and had an irritating smugness all about him.

He clearly wanted everyone to know he was the manager of the House.

"Forgive my friends," he said as introduction. "They lack certain... social graces."

"Hadn't noticed," Hope stood her ground. "Now who are you and what do you want?"

"Let me deal with this," Ilya pushed her aside gently. "This is my problem."

"It most certainly is," the proprietor chuckled. "Welcome back. It's been quite a few months since you came crawling to my door begging for a loan - _Ilya Volkov_."

"Simon Petrokovich."

"So you do remember? Very nice. And so nice that I did not have to drag you back here myself. Have you returned voluntarily to close out your account? What was it you owed again - principle plus interest - ten _million _rubles?"

"Wait - _him_?" Hope spun on Ilya. "_This_ is the guy you owe the money to?"

"Please," Petrokovich tutted sweetly. "Don't sound so - disappointed."

"Oh, I'm definitely more than that. The amount of interest you're claiming isn't just shameful - it's _illegal_."

"And you think that matters to me in the slightest? Mr. Volkov knew what he was getting himself into by doing business with me."

"You took advantage of someone who needed help," she threw out angrily. "You're no better than a parasite."

"Hannah, please," Ilya pulled her back protectively. "Do not involve yourself here."

"Yes," the manager smirked. "I agree. This is delicate business and I would dearly hate for any harm to come to such a lovely young creature as yourself."

"Are you _threatening _me?" Hope boiled.

"Quite the opposite," he calmly inhaled. "In fact... if your associate Mr. Volkov here surrenders himself - and the money - without protest, it would be my pleasure to ignore your...how do you say in English? - _poor sportsmanship_ \- tonight at my blackjack table."

"I didn't _cheat_," she snapped at him. "And I'm not leaving without Ilya. You can have the money - but then you strike his name from your books and let us both go."

The two men behind Petrokovich started laughing and soon he had joined in as well.

"My sweet _milaya moya_," he moved in closer. "May I remind you that neither of you are in any position to negotiate. So Mr. Volkov - the money. I will not ask again."

With a hard look Ilya withdrew Hannah's winnings from his pocket and passed them over to the House manager. They had to watch as he counted up every single bill miserly before their eyes.

"Wonderful," he smirked in satisfaction. "Now the rest of it."

"The rest of it? But that is more than what I owe!"

"What I hold in my hand is merely what the young lady here stole from me tonight. Your account remains outstanding, Mr. Volkov - and it is long, long overdue. So I am calling in the debt - tonight."

Petrokovich snapped his fingers and his men attacked.

Ilya doubled over in pain as one of the grunts elbowed him in the stomach, the other pinning his arms painfully behind his back. They ripped the bracelet from his wrist and tossed it to their boss; Petrokovich caught it in a handkerchief with a flourish.

"_Vervain_," he frowned, inspecting the woven threads. "I did not realize the police were giving their boys such protection, Mr. Volkov."

"With the city run by _monsters_, no one can be too safe," he growled.

"No matter," the manager sneered. "Nothing will protect you now. Boys, take him away and turn him - he can work off his debt for the rest of eternity."

Hope gasped in horror as they began to drag Ilya away.

"_No!"_ she lunged at Petrokovich. "Call them off or _else_."

"Or else?" he laughed in her face - until he couldn't breathe to laugh anymore.

She had shoved him against the wall, her hand so tightly around his neck it crushed his windpipe.

"And finally she shows her fangs," he sputtered, sneering. "A monster...just like us."

"I said call them off - and let him go."

Hope needed only one hand to throw the vampire to the ground. One of his guards rushed forward but the glow of her eyes dared him to even think about taking another step.

She ignored Ilya's shocked expression and focused back on Petrokovich.

"Call off your men and send them away," she demanded.

And when he hesitated a second too long she let her eyes glow to encourage him.

He was certainly motivated now. With a frustrated snarl he nodded for his guards to release Ilya and step down.

"Good," she sighed. "Thank you - now give me your word Ilya's free."

"But his debt is not settled!"

"Fine. Then let's try this another way."

With a turn of her ankle, Hope stabbed through the palm of his hand with the knife of her heel.

"And now?" she leaned in.

"It's settled!" he hissed up at her, rolling on the floor in pain.

Leaving him to squirm, Hope returned to Ilya's side.

"Get out of here," she pushed him. "Now. I'll be there in a moment."

"But...you...your face - you're a -,"

"_Go,"_ she compelled him, "and wait for me outside."

She watched him leave through the double doors, sighing with slumped shoulders as she realized what this all meant.

Hope was more annoyed than anything when she turned back to Petrokovich. Crouching, she grabbed the arrogant mobster by his tie and yanked it hard.

"You will clear any and all debt associated with Ilya Volkov," her eyes grew wide, "and do the same for any of the other poor innocents you're trying to drain. It's people like you who give vampires a bad name."

"But _you_," he shook in fear, "your eyes! _What are you?"_

"A Mikaelson - and the nice one - so consider yourself lucky that you're even still alive."

Hope dropped him, slowly coming to her feet.

"Oh, and come near Ilya or his family again and I'll hear about it - all the way in New Orleans."

Stepping over Petrokovich, she made her way outside to join Ilya.

Obediently he was waiting for her by the car in the cold November air.

If she hadn't compelled him to stay, she was certain he would have run.

"Are you okay?" she approached him slowly. "Did they hurt you?"

"You're one of them," he confronted her. "You're a vampire."

"Ilya, I can explain..."

"How did I not know?"

He sounded sincere, upset even, that he hadn't paid enough attention to notice before.

"I wish I had known," he looked down apologetically.

"Would it have changed anything?" she shrugged.

He said nothing and she wrapped her arms around herself, covering the distance between them.

"You have to understand, Ilya: I didn't want the person I was following me here."

"So you came to this city all those months ago to hide?"

"From many things, yes, I guess I did."

The wind picked up, leaving them in silence for a second.

When he moved, it wasn't to turn his back on her. He came in closer, shuffling off his jacket and wrapping it around her bare shoulders.

"You left your coat inside."

Pulling the warm wool around her, Hope looked up with large, misted eyes.

"I might be a hybrid, but you are a rarer creature still, Ilya Volkov."

"A hybrid? I do not even think our men at the station know what that is."

"You don't have to worry about hybrids. There's only four - three - _three_ of us...left."

"But your friend - who died - was one as well."

"Yeah, I kinda let that one slip, didn't I?" she mumbled.

"If your friend was anything like you," he smiled sympathetically, "then I know I would have loved her too. You do not have to be human to be the best of humanity, you have reminded me of that tonight. Hannah, you gave me back my freedom - my family's freedom. How can I ever repay you?"

She looked past him for a moment, drawn into her thoughts. For the last two years she had been tending to someone else's life to avoid having to live her own. But saving Ilya tonight had required all the parts of her that she had hidden away, reminding her that she had always had the strength all along to face anything on her own.

So it was time to put Hannah Marshall away - and for Hope Mikaelson to go home.

"I know what you can do," she looked up. "You can drive me to the airport."

"You're leaving?" he said shocked. "Now?"

"My cover's been blown," she joked, though she was already getting emotional. "And my parents have probably been waiting up for me to come home...well, since I left."

"But certainly you can stay one more day - at least."

"I owe people apologies, Ilya. I think I've kept them waiting long enough. And anyway, wasn't the point of all your covert therapy to convince me to go home in the first place?"

"It was," he admitted sadly, "but I will miss you, Hannah Marshall."

"Actually, it's Hope. My real name is Hope Mikaelson."

She stuck out her hand to finally introduce herself.

"And I'm very happy to have met you."

"Same," he completed the handshake. "I am very happy to have met you too."

Hope smiled until her cheeks hurt and she knew the tears were coming.

"I...saved this for you," she added quickly, handing Ilya his vervain bracelet. "You have some smart thinkers down at the precinct. My two cents though - just put the vervain into your coffee - or your vodka. Whichever you drink more of."

He laughed, nodding in appreciation, fixing the bracelet back around his wrist.

"So is this _do svidaniya?_" he opened the door for her. "Is this a goodbye forever, Hope Mikaelson?"

"Something tells me don't bet on it," she smiled, and slipped into his car.

**AN: Hallelujah! Our baby's coming home! But what exactly is Hope coming home to? Stay tuned, stay fine, and drop me a line, xo.**


	62. Tell the Wolves I'm Home Part I

It had been many long months since New Orleans had seen a celebration quite like this. The polls were closed and the Compound was alive; red and white streamers festooned around every column and batches of blue balloons bounced freely around on the floor.

And there was confetti everywhere. It glittered and made Klaus grumble.

But the music was appropriately boisterous and so the hybrid moved in closer toward the band. Waiters circled around with drinks on silver platters but Klaus was content enough with a bottle from his own personal store. Tonight seemed the perfect excuse to bring out the hundred-year-old scotch - he couldn't remember the last time New Orleans had a mayor this beloved, and even more impressively, one he had absolutely no desire to kill.

The victory had gone to Aidan in a landslide - no compulsion required. Klaus didn't even realize he was smiling proudly as he watched him now carefully through the crowd. The poor lad had been bombarded with well-wishers all night but then again, every king must hold court.

Aidan greeted one of his voters with a hearty handshake.

"Reverend Johnson!"

"Mr. Thompson...or should I say, Mr. Mayor! Congratulations, son."

"Thank you, sir. Really. For everything - I could not have won this election without the support of you and your parish."

"Well, anyone who promises to bring some law and order to the supernatural situation in the ninth ward has the faith of my people."

"I'll be out there soon for the next meeting."

"I look forward to it," the reverend chuckled warmly, "but in the meantime, I think I see some hushpuppies with my name on them. So if you'll excuse me..."

As soon as he left another took his place. She was not a member of the Faction but cared about the humans of New Orleans no less passionately.

Aidan clasped both her hands in his with a welcoming smile.

"Sister Mary Elizabeth, thank you for coming out tonight."

"We are all very proud of you at St. Ann's, Aidan. You will need to find some time in that busy schedule of yours to come speak to my youngest disciples. You have heard of Holy Cross, St. Ann's orphanage? Some of the children made you this."

She handed him a handcrafted card cut roughly from thick blue paper. Stars in white crayon and red zigzag stripes decorated the front and on the inside several of the letters were backwards as the children had attempted to spell out "Congrats Aidan T."

The phrase was followed by an alarming amount of exclamation marks and then below the young artists had signed their names in various degrees of legibility: Ruth, Faith, Jonah, and Adam – his most passionate supporters too young to even vote.

Aidan held onto the card like his most prized possession.

"This is fantastic, Sister, thank you for passing it along. I will most definitely schedule a visit in the upcoming weeks once all the celebration dies down – better yet, let's have the children come to City Hall. I'll give them the grand tour myself."

The woman touched his arm sympathetically.

"Your sister would be very proud of you. I remember when she came through our program - a good, strong spirit, much loved by the younger children as well."

"Leah always spoke very fondly of her time at Holy Cross," Aidan said quietly. "In her honor, I've asked the City Council to consider increasing your funding."

"The Lord will provide, my child," she assured him. "You focus on restoring the Quarter; mend the heart and the body will thrive."

"Truer words never spoken," he chuckled, "and thank you again for the card."

She moved on but there were still so many more. Aidan was starting to feel a little overwhelmed - and hungry. Fortunately someone was looking out for him and quickly pulled him out of line for a break.

It was Klaus. He grabbed Aidan's shoulder and leaned in with a smirk.

"Looks like someone could use a timeout. How are you feeling?"

"Like my hands are going to fall off from all the congratulating."

"I was actually referring to your constant craving for blood, not approval."

"Oh," Aidan realized, laughing. "Well, let's see then. I've been up since three - without a moment alone since - and now half of New Orleans wants an interview or a photo - or _something_. I'm running out of steam, but - on the plus side - I've had zero urges to kill any of my constituents."

"Yet...," Klaus chuckled. "And you know where the blood bags are if you need one."

"But I'll be back for that scotch first so save me some. Anyway, I should return to the party."

"Of course. Your kingdom awaits."

Klaus watched Aidan settled back in among his subjects. He wondered if any of the great citizens of New Orleans realized they had just elected their first hybrid mayor. He was staying remarkably calm and focused given all the excitement of the day, and it wasn't just winning the election; Aidan had been been up since three in the morning like Lazarus got up and walked out the tomb.

Of all the days to decide to turn...

As his campaign manager Klaus was obligated to disapprove of Aidan's timing. There were also much _neater _ways to off oneself than a knife to the chest, ways that didn't lead to scrubbing blood out of kitchen grout in the middle of the night.

Then again you're bound to make a mess when you don't ask for help.

He couldn't stay mad for long. Aidan's decision to turn alone was stubborn, reckless, and completely expected - he was a Thompson after all, and that family had never been the best at thinking before acting. Yet somehow they always managed to land on their feet.

And get under your skin.

Klaus decided to move inside before he could get anymore sentimental - or they dropped more confetti.

\

Aidan was in the middle of an interview with the local paper when one of his pack members begged a moment of his time.

"You will have to excuse me," he apologized, stepping away from the cameras.

He was happy to do so. Kissing babies he could do; dealing with the press was another thing. He eagerly let his friend lead him away from the noise of the party until they found themselves huddled in a passage behind the courtyard stairs.

Aidan had an idea what this was about. He pulled nervously at his collar.

"Tell it to me straight - are they booting me out?"

"What? Aidan, no - that's not why the pack met tonight!"

"But you guys know I'm a hybrid now, right...?"

"Don't be dumb," the wolf cackled. "We don't go kicking out our friends just because they decided to go for blood instead of beer! Also you're _mayor_ now - congrats by the way - point is the pack don't care what you are as long as you lead us good."

"Jesus," Aidan sighed in relief, slumping against the wall. "I've been freaking out all day. When I heard the Crescents had called an emergency meeting I thought you were all voting on _me_."

"We _were_, stupid - we voted you our new alpha!"

"_What?!"_

"Yes, sir. I'm talking to the new leader of the Crescent City wolves. Way to rock it, man. I believe in you, bro."

"Holy shit," Aidan beamed, laughing. "This is unbelievable. I swear, this day could not get any better."

Just then his breast pocket began to vibrate. With a silly smile still plastered on his face, he pulled his phone free.

"If you need to take that, go ahead. I can find you later," his friend offered.

"No, stay. It's probably nothing urgent. I've been getting congrats from random people all night. Let me just check."

Swiping past the lock screen, Aidan nodded. Sure enough he had a new message from another one of their pack mates who just happened to live down the block.

But when he saw what the message was the smile fell off his face.

_Noticed lights are on in the apartment. Knew you'd want to know. _

Aidan's heart began to beat out of his chest.

"I feel you, man," his friend rolled his eyes. "I hate when that happens too. You forget to turn your lights off _once_ and the next month when your electricity bill comes you're like 'what the -'"

"I'm sorry," Aidan cut him off, quickly apologizing for his rudeness. "I...I have to go."

"Now? Are some lights so important you have to leave your own party?"

"Sort of - maybe - yes. I don't know. Look, if someone asks where I am, make something up. If it's Klaus Mikaelson...make something _really_ good up."

Leaving his friend in complete confusion, Aidan took off at full speed, bolting through the crowd and out the side gate before even Klaus could see him leave.

As he raced down the block, he was trying not to get his hopes up too much - last time it had just been a maintenance man and once it had actually been Klaus himself, sitting quiet and alone in the middle of the night nostalgically in his daughter's apartment.

But this time Aidan was sure - he could feel it. This time Hope was really back.

By the the time he was climbing the staircase in her building, he had wrinkled his suit and ruined his hair. Neither of these things meant anything at all - and his victory speech, folded up in his pocket, was not as important as what was in there next to it.

He had been carrying around the little box for months and in the time Hope had been gone he had visited her place every day. It had simply become part of his routine: wake up, coffee, paper, put the ring in his pocket and then to Hope's. He had taken it upon himself to ensure that everything was perfect for her return, that the flowers were always fresh by her bed, the mail always sorted, the photo frames straight. Aidan even replaced the fruit in its bowl weekly, always remembering to leave out the apples of course.

And one day during all that time playing house alone he had found Hope's wedding scrapbook. A photo of the two of them had fallen out and a vision of their future opened before him in that moment.

Aidan felt foolish for not realizing they had wanted the same thing all along.

He could only pray that she still wanted it too. He could only pray that she had really come home. Reaching the top of the landing, he grabbed onto the post in his eagerness as he almost fell full through the open doorway into her apartment.

His friend hadn't been wrong. The lights were definitely on.

And there was Hope standing beneath them.


	63. Tell the Wolves I'm Home Part II

She heard the footsteps rising up the stairs and lowered the newspaper in her hands. Part of her wondered who was so desperate to reach her and the other part already knew. The evidence was all around her; from the flowers to the fruit to his photo on the front page, Hope knew that Aidan was alive.

But seeing was believing.

The softest gasp escaped her as he stumbled through her doorway. Their expressions were perfectly mirrored: eyes wide in amazement but unsure if what they saw was even real. For the first few seconds Hope and Aidan just stared at each other.

Speechless.

A howl pierced the stillness outside where down in the streets the city was celebrating. But in here, inside, between the two of them now - there was silence.

The air crackled with hesitation. Neither was quite sure what to say or who should say it first.

So Aidan began with the obvious.

"Hope," he breathed excitedly. "You're back."

"And you're...alive."

Her fingers curled around the paper as she stared down at it ashamed. She felt like she'd been caught in a lie, called out on an excuse she'd concocted to avoid him.

"It would seem," he smiled, but she didn't. He took a step forward but she remained where she stood.

Confused by her reaction, Aidan looked Hope over carefully. She looked a little tired, a bit travel worn, but in all other ways safe and sound. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his fingers brushing against the ring box.

"Words cannot express how happy I am that you're home."

"I would have come back sooner. If I'd known, all this time -"

"Hope, you don't have to explain. Not to me."

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart; Aidan was sure he sounded just as nervous as he felt.

"So you're, uh, fresh back into town, huh?"

"Straight here from the airport," she motioned to her bag.

"But none of us knew you were flying in," he mentioned neutrally. "You didn't tell anyone you were coming home."

"Well, it's not like I needed my parents to pick me up."

"I know - that's not what I meant to suggest. It's just...had I known you were coming back_ today_ -"

"You would have what?" she finally smiled. "Come picked me up yourself?"

"Exactly."

Hope blinked, unsure what to do with that response.

"Oh."

She twisted the paper tightly, uncharacteristically out of sorts. This reunion was definitely not fireworks and champagne and she had a feeling that was her fault. If she didn't know what to say it was only because she hadn't planned to ever say anything to Aidan again - she had thought he was dead.

Correction: she had let herself think he was dead.

And how could Aidan have read her silence as anything other than that she no longer cared? It was selfish for her to expect him to have patiently waited for her this whole time. If he had moved on in her absence, made himself mayor or even fallen in love again, then that was something, like Leah's death, which in time she was going to have to accept.

Suddenly disheartened, Hope fidgeted once again with the newspaper before tossing it aside for good.

"So...mayor of New Orleans. Wow. You have certainly kept yourself busy."

"You've been gone so long," he seemed to apologize. "Hope, I -"

"- no, I wasn't trying to say that you...I just meant -"

The conversation stalled just as abruptly as it had begun. Aidan looked one way and Hope looked the other; the aversion was unfamiliar. They hadn't been this awkward around each other since they had started dating in college. Distance, it appeared, could be measured in more ways than just miles.

Hope started to worry she'd perhaps been gone too long.

She was fidgeting again, this time with the lapels on the jacket still draped over her shoulders. Ilya had been adamant she keep it as a memento of their friendship and she tugged at it now in her uncertainty over Aidan's feelings.

And of course Aidan was just as needlessly worried about hers. But when he realized the jacket Hope wore belonged to another man his heart sank.

"You look beautiful," he still had to say, gesturing to her red dress.

"Thanks," she smiled bashfully. "I was in a bit of a hurry. Didn't have time to change."

"Then you probably don't need me racing in here and causing chaos. You should have some time alone."

"I don't mind the company."

Hope sensed him trying to withdraw and unconsciously moved in closer.

"Unless you have somewhere more important to be?" she added softly.

"I don't."

"But you were just elected mayor...certainly you have something fancy to be at."

"I don't," he repeated, a bit flustered. "Or rather, it can wait."

"Oh, no - don't wait on my account. Aidan, please, I've kept you waiting long enough."

She had spoken with such vulnerability that tears were now forming at the end of her lashes. It was all Hope could do not to ask him outright, if they could pick up where they'd left off - if the one thing Mikael hadn't destroyed was their feelings for each other.

"I don't mind," was all he said, his hands deep in his pockets again. "Like you said, I've kept myself busy."

"But what I did wasn't fair to you. I have no excuse."

"Hope, you don't have to apologize -"

"Yes, I do - for cutting myself off completely - for never having the courage to check if you had survived Mikael's attack. I can't have you thinking that I didn't care, that I never once thought of you all this time. Because I did - everyday - but I was scared to know the truth - to know for _sure_ \- because after Leah, Aidan, I just...I couldn't lose anyone else. I couldn't lose you."

He moved so fast it was almost like she fell into his arms. When Hope started crying he was already there at her side.

"You're home now," he assured her. "And you've still got me."

"I thought Mikael had killed you..."

"Baby, not a chance."

Aidan pulled Hope in tightly and laced his hands through her hair as he held her close. He wanted to help her carry the burden of everything that had been weighing on her heart. He let her damped his shoulder with her tears, not knowing the specific reasons why she cried each one but only that they needed to be shed. He would not even begin to assume to know the full extent of what had happened between her and Leah and the other Mikaelsons those weeks on the run from Mikael, but perhaps in time - perhaps in _their_ future - a day would come when she would share even the most painful of those memories with him.

As her gentle sobbing lightened, Aidan felt the ring box grow heavier in his pocket. Tilting Hope's chin, he kissed her, joining their hands tightly until their palms pressed together and he could guide her hand to his chest.

He set it flat against his heart so she would feel the force of what he had to say.

"I can't imagine where you've been and I won't pretend to know what you've been through, but I do know that from here on out there's nothing you have to go through alone - and I know that I love you, as I have always and forever loved you."

"Me too," her eyes sparkled. "Aidan, I love you too."

"Then marry me, Hope Mikaelson."

Their synchronized heartbeats were the only sound that followed. Hope watched in shocked amazement as Aidan's hand slipped inside his pocket once more and emerged - at last - with the little black box.

His thumb hesitated over the ornate golden latch.

"Now, I know this isn't how you pictured it," he apologized, "but this thing's been burning a hole in my pocket since the night of your birthday two years ago and I just can't wait another second to -"

"Then yes!" Hope blurted, nodding in laughter. "Aidan, yes!"

"But, I haven't -"

"You said you couldn't wait! Neither can I!"

"So you're saying...?"

"I'm saying _yes _\- I, Hope Mikaelson - will of course marry you!"

Those two years suddenly meant nothing as she threw her arms around his neck like not a day had gone by. Forgetting the ring entirely, Aidan picked her up into his arms and swung them around wildly. Hope laughed even louder, her entire body ringing with scintillating joy, her head so far in the clouds that her chest hurt in the best way possible and her heart felt ready to burst.

And when her feet touched the floor again, she had to run her hand across her cheek. She had forgotten that not all tears came from sadness.

She laughed at herself as Aidan eased open the box.

"This is so not where I saw this conversation going when it started," she sighed ecstatically.

"You're telling me. I've never been more nervous in my life."

"You were worried I'd say no?"

"You had me sweating like the sun," he chuckled, lifting the silver band from the box.

He took her left hand in his, holding up the ring with the other.

"Now remember _this,_" he slid it on her finger, "does not represent how much I love you. Nothing can do that, Hope."

He kissed her hand and then watched in delight as she wiggled her fingers until the sapphire sparkled.

"Did you really carry it around for all those months?"

"Had to be prepared. I promised myself that the moment you returned, I wouldn't waste a second; that you would understand right then how much I love you."

"Well, for the record, I always knew - but I _love_ the reminder. The ring's beautiful, Aidan."

Hope kissed him again and this time there was fire on her lips. She was looking at him in a way that made him forget he was missing his own party - if not his own name. If he thought for one moment that he could manage it, he'd whisk her away tonight and elope.

"City Hall - 8am. Tomorrow. Come to work with me, Hope. Let's get married."

The smile slipped slightly from her face.

"Aidan, I ...I don't think all our friends and family are going to fit in a courtroom - and I could never get married without them."

"Then we'll throw a huge wedding in Jackson Square. Open sky, live music, the whole Quarter will be invited! I can call in some favors, have it all planned in a week; plenty of time for folks to fly in from - wherever."

For a second Hope's thoughts flickered to her aunt - and then to Elijah.

"It's a plan," she nodded anyway. "Yes, it's perfect. Let's do it. Let's tell everyone we're getting married in a week!"

"Then we better start telling them tonight - and we sure as better start with your parents."


	64. The Kids are Alright

Another drink wasn't going to help the situation but Klaus figured it was a good place to start. The situation, as it were, was that Aidan was still missing. How he had managed to sneak away from his own party was an absolute mystery; the entire courtyard had been filled with people desperate for a minute of his time and yet no one had any clue where he was now.

The Compound was currently empty - at least of people. Klaus had to kick aside several balloons just to wade his way to the bar. He had sent the wait staff home, and tossed the revelers into the street; anyone else who hadn't gotten the message he simply compelled: the party, for tonight, was now over. They would all have their interviews and press shots come morning, pending of course that Aidan decided to show his face again.

Snatching a crystal flute from the white linen table the hybrid served himself. Truth be told, he was in a bit of a mood. Despite the ubiquity of confetti and streamers he was no longer feeling very festive; if anything he was feeling downright abandoned. First Hayley had chosen to spend the evening with the wolves out in the bayou and now the only other person whose presence he could tolerate had skipped off to celebrate on his own as well.

Typical, really.

If only his brother were here so they could clink glasses and toast to another glorious coronation; Aidan Thompson was of course not the first king - or mayor for that matter - he had placed into power through the centuries. And yet this time Klaus' sense of accomplishment ran deeper than the simple success of some maniacal political machination.

He was actually, sincerely, happy for the kid. He was proud - like a father.

_Bloody hell. How did that happen?_

He downed his drink and went in for another just as he heard her footsteps.

"I'd say pour me a glass but I need something stronger."

Klaus set down the bottle of champagne as Hayley came through the gate in a huff.

"Productive meeting with the Crescents?" he smirked, raising his glass in welcome.

"It was...until the election was officially called and the pack broke out the moonshine. As someone who values all her limbs right where they are I left when they started lighting fireworks."

"And abandoned your pack to their fate. Tsk."

"Hey, if they burn down the bayou that's on them. And it's not my pack anymore - not just mine anyway. Not exactly sure if co-alphas is a thing, but the vote passed. The packs are reuniting."

"So a hundred years later and the Crescent wolves have _finally_ realized a house divided cannot stand."

"Yeah, well, apparently they just needed some motivation. Word is Aidan got voted alpha of the city pack tonight. Kid's on a roll."

"He who hesitates is lost, as they say."

"Well, I bet you're awfully happy with yourself," Hayley folded her arms knowingly.

"What can I say?" Klaus shrugged nonchalantly. "It's been a few too many centuries since we had a mayor in the family.

"Uh huh," she said slowly, choosing not to comment on his casual inclusion on Aidan as 'family.' "So where's he now?"

"An excellent question..."

"You have no idea, do you?"

"No need to panic, Hayley, I'm sure he's wandering around here somewhere..."

"A newly-turned hybrid."

"Among other things."

"Go find him," Hayley sighed, voicing the obvious solution. "It's been a long day for everyone and the sooner we're all back home the better. I'd help but I have to go make sure the fire department is on standby."

Klaus watched her disappear inside, accepting she was right but not feeling too motivated to start the search right away.

He needed another drink first. Foregoing the flute, he snatched up the entire bottle of champagne, grumbling as he stood over the table and frowned.

Okay, now he was definitely in a mood. Was he just imagining things or had he distinctively sensed a tone of tired disappointment? Maybe this time he deserved it. First he'd lost track of their daughter out there in the world and now he'd done the same with her suitor - no wonder Hayley had seemed rather bothered, though hardly surprised, that he had managed to lose yet another one of the kids.

Yes, _kids_, plural. Children. Heirs. Whatever word you're supposed to attach to those young things that you care for, even when they aren't your own. There's a reason, after all, they're called sons-in-law.

And okay - yes, he'd admit it (though not to anyone or aloud): he was _fond_ of Aidan - overly so - _clearly,_ why else was he be waiting up for him to drag his arse home at this hour like some an overprotective parent?

Klaus hated when he got emotional. It made the champagne taste sour.

Following Hayley's lead and opting for a stronger drink he turned back to the bar, not bothering to look up from his pouring as the sound of footsteps rose up again behind him.

"Have you returned to help me finish off the bourbon?"

"That... and I realized just how much I missed you."

Klaus' hand tightened around the neck of the bottle as he slammed it down on the table, eyes closing as he immediately pictured his daughter's face. But it had been so long since he'd heard her voice that right away he feared it was a trick, some cruel deception blown in with the wind.

He was almost too afraid to look.

But slowly relaxing his shoulders, he peeled his fingers free and stepped back from the table - then took a deep breath and turned around.

"Hope... is it really you?"

She was smiling, just like he pictured, laughing at his shocked expression.

"Yes," her voice broke softly. "It's really me, Daddy. I'm home."

Klaus blinked in amazement, his thoughts racing as fast as his heart as it tried to convince his head: she's here, she's safe - she's _home_. Hope had to raise her arms first because he was just standing there overcome with relief. He hugged her tightly, and when he immediately started in with the overprotective act she laughed to find it comforting how some things never changed.

"_Two years_, Hope -"

"I know. I'm sorry, I -"

" - out there in the wilds -"

" - not exactly, but -"

" - and both of us worried out of our bloody minds -"

" - I'm sorry for making you and Mom_ -"_

" - and _anything_ could have happened without us to protect you. "

"And if it _did_," she told him firmly, "I got through it just fine - on my own. Dad, me standing here is proof that I made it. I needed time to land on my feet, and I did, and I learned so much. But I came back because I owe you and Mom an apology. You're right - two years is too long. I didn't call. I didn't write - but I also didn't mean to hurt either of you."

Klaus leaned back, mouth slightly agape as he looked - really looked - at his daughter. Something in her confident tone had struck him squarely across the face. There was sincerity, but also maturity, in the way she tried to calm his concerns. It only made him wonder - and worry - what exactly had happened to force his little girl to finally grow up.

And so although she looked healthy and happy, he just needed to hear her say it.

"Are you sure you're alright, Hope?"

"Dad, believe me, I'm going to be fine."

"Then say nothing more of it," he pulled her close again. "You are my daughter, and that is the constant."

"I love you too," she hugged him back.

The Compound soon sounded with a rush of footsteps as Hayley ran into the courtyard.

"Klaus, I must be going crazy. I swore I just heard -"

She skid to a stop, seeing Klaus - seeing his daughter.

"Oh my God... Hope."

_"Mom!"_

So much for not getting emotional.

Klaus sent Hope into the arms of her mother, watching their reunion with a silly, sentimental grin. Hayley fussed over their daughter like she always did, hugging her tightly, looking her over, tucking curls back into place like she was still their wild child.

He set about fashioning them all drinks, not so much so he could hide the fact that he _might_ me crying, as that he clearly desperately needed one himself since he was. Sometimes you don't realize you've been holding your breath until you finally take one again, and after so many months of waking up and going to sleep with that ever constant worry for his daughter, Klaus could finally relax with the peace of mind that she was safe.

And home - and apparently engaged.

He almost over-poured the bourbon because he was focusing on Hope's hand instead of the glass on the table in front of him. If he had seen anything more frequently in the last two years than Aidan himself it was that ring. Bloody hell, that boy moved fast.

_Good on you, mate. _

Klaus grinned widely, feeling smugly satisfied in his earlier decision not to chase off after Aidan. He hadn't needed to find the kids - the kids had found each other.

Stopping up the liquor bottle, he chuckled loudly from behind the bar.

"Well that certainly solves the mystery of the missing mayor."

"What's your father talking about?" Hayley frowned.

"I _may_ have taken a little detour before coming here," Hope confessed excitedly. She held up the hand which now sported her new engagement ring and laughed. "Surprise! Aidan proposed!"

"_About bloody time -"_

"He means 'congrats.'" Hayley translated. "And so do I, Hope, I'm so happy for you."

"And I am appropriately delighted as well," Klaus managed, already dreading the inevitable pomp and circumstance that accompanied weddings in this family. "As I am sure your aunt will be as soon as you break the news."

"That's right, I need to call Rebekah! And Philippe! And -"

"Slow down, love, there'll be time to let them know everything."

"But I have so much to share! With you too - I don't even know where to begin...though I should probably start by mentioning the wedding's in a week."

"_A what?!"_

Klaus snorted at Hayley's reaction.

"I'm hardly surprised. Timing is obviously a loose concept to anyone who turns himself into a hybrid on election day."

"Klaus! I thought we agreed to let - "

"Don't worry, Mom. I already know. Aidan told me earlier. He told me everything. Which reminds me - the three of us have some _things_ we need to talk about - but _after_ the wedding."

"Which is in a _week_."

"So I should probably call Rebekah now because I'm going to need her here first thing in the morning to help with the arrangements. Yes, I know it's soon, but it's totally doable. I'm here, Aidan's here, you're here, the packs are here. If Rebekah and Phillippe fly in from Paris that only leaves -"

"Elijah."

"Please tell me you know where he is, Dad."

Klaus looked to Hayley optimistically but she gave her head a little, regretful shake.

"Really?" Hope sighed, crestfallen. "No phone number? No address?"

"I'm sorry, honey. Neither of us have heard from him since..."

"It's okay, Mom. Trust me I understand. It's just...I can't get married without him there. All of you are my family, and I always pictured all of us together to welcome Aidan into it. I need to find Elijah."

"I do have a list of places he could be," Klaus offered, along with that celebratory drink. "But fair warning: it's 15 pages and that's just A through F."

"So you already tried his place in Boston."

"We did," Hayley stared into her glass, "but there is literally a lock the size of your fist on the front door. We even asked around; he quit his job at the college and none of the neighbors have seen him around."

"Well, he couldn't have fallen off the face of the earth entirely."

"She says as she emerges from parts unknown," Klaus added.

"Oh, right."

Setting down her drink, Hope looked between her parents, wheels turning in her head as she absently worried Leah's bracelet around her wrist.

"...Luckily, I think I have an idea. Think Pony Express - but with wolves. Call a meeting of the packs, I'm going to need their help. Wherever Elijah is, I know how we can find him."


	65. Everybody Talks

**Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I won't give too much away to those sorely missing our favorite redhead except that no one's missing her more than me and the very last chapters are my favorite. :)**

Klaus sat in the recently reopened Rousseau's with a glass full of scotch and a head full of thoughts. The lunch crowd chattered about loudly and more than once he heard a familiar name punctuate the various conversation around him. Evidently the entire city had nothing better to chirp about than their new mayor and the announcement he had made this morning from the steps of City Hall:

Aidan Thompson was getting married - and everyone was invited.

Which only seemed appropriate; if New Orleans was home then its citizens were family - the type you fought with, ran away from, but ultimately came back to - different people, different _species_, but close-knit when they had reason to come together in common.

And weddings always had a way of bringing people together, particularly when there was really no one in New Orleans who didn't know mayor Thompson or _the_ Hope Mikaelson. You would have had to just moved here not to have heard of the bride and groom, but those who had lived in the city even longer could tell you all you needed to know.

The Thompsons had lived in New Orleans since World War II when Henry Thompson followed the Americans back from England to escape the persecution of werewolves. Always the children of fortune, over the decades the city had given the Thompson clan as much as it had demanded back. Wherever you went around town, someone would nod and say 'that there's a Thompson. Them wolves will steal your heart, so watch yourself."

The Mikaelsons, on the other hand, had lived in New Orleans since the 1700s when the brothers were forced to flee the Old World with their sister Rebekah to escape the wrath of their father Mikael. Always the children of sorrow, over the centuries the city had repaid the Mikaelson family for its devotion with betrayal and loss. Wherever you went around town, someone would nod and say 'that there's a Mikaelson. Them vampires will rip out your heart, so watch yourself."

Two households and two children, whom some might call star-crossed. There had been a time in which whenever they went walking in the Quarter, holding hands and whispering sweet secrets, all around them heads would turn and gossip would spring up in their wake. Wherever you went around town, someone would nod and say 'that there's Klaus' kid with Liam's boy. Them lovebirds will never make it in a city like this."

And Klaus, who had never cared much either way what people said, now couldn't help but notice that these same folks didn't say much of anything anymore.

It's hard to speak with your foot in your mouth.

A crooked grin spread wide across his face as he lifted his drink and continued to eavesdrop on the whispers around him. News of his daughter's wedding had spread through the wards like wildfire. The announcement this morning came two days after the election and fresh on the heels of a whirlwind of interviews. Sure they were all staged, and rather more sensational than he could stomach, but Hope and Aidan's appearances in front of the camera had a deliberate and purposeful motive.

This morning hadn't been a publicity ploy, not in the usual sense. Part of Hope's plan was that the press might be able to reach his brother if the lupine grapevine proved unsuccessful. After meeting with the Crescents she had set up what was essentially a werewolf Pony Express; there were packs across the world and they all formed a network. Someone, somewhere, must have crossed paths with Elijah.

And while Klaus was impressed with his daughter's ingenuity, one week wasn't exactly a whole lot of time to track down someone who didn't want to be found.

And one week, as Rebekah had flown in to remind Hope in person, was barely enough time to arrange a proper dinner party, let alone a wedding. Philippe gave his _félicitations_ but wisely stayed out of their argument, trying to avoid an eternity of misery from either Mikaelson woman.

Which exactly happened to be Klaus' excuse for drinking in a bar before noon.

He glanced down at his phone on the counter, waiting for it to light up with Hayley calling that some sanity had returned to the Compound. It had been her idea that he take a break from all the wedding prep and maybe get some air. Nothing made him peakier than being called 'father of the bride' - which meant Rebekah called him nothing else.

His sister was still a bit touchy over the whole your-husband's-not-actually-dead misunderstanding, but fortunately all the white lace and bright sparkle of Hope's various potential dresses was enough to distract her from the fact she was still cross with him.

And his daughter, to her credit, had a wedding plan already penned in the face of Rebekah's own grandiose visions: there were dresses that didn't need to be made, musicians that didn't need to be prodigies, and a venue that didn't require nine hours and a passport just to reach. Jackson Square was as New Orleans as it got, and the cathedral was right there if a church was truly needed.

So all in all, everything was shaping up to be a grand, yet respectable, affair. There was really only one thing missing, the one person who could possibly delay the whole endeavor.

Glancing down at his phone, Klaus felt again the disappointment of a blank screen - and this time it had nothing to do with Hayley. Sighing deeply, he hailed the bartender for a refill - and another round of the same on top of that.

Sliding it in front of the stool to his right, Klaus set the drink out for his brother.

**/**

The morning dragged on at the diner and the lunch rush was unusually slow. Staffed at the register, Rachel shut off the fan before turning back to her task; the old thing was clunking on loudly in her ears and it wasn't even needed now that autumn had arrived in the desert.

Upending the tip jar onto the counter, she started sorting out the change into tiny little piles, blonde flyaways peeping out of her tight braid as a pleasant breeze caught them and floated them about her head. The door to the diner was propped open; in typical fashion Marlene hadn't bothered to close it at the end of her shift.

Which was why Rachel didn't immediately realize she had a new customer. She was so used to hearing the ding of the bell over the door that she just kept on counting tips behind the counter even as he walked in and crossed to the booth at the end.

Elijah took his place quietly and sat just as patiently, giving himself a moment to adjust to the familiar surroundings. He couldn't help but remember his own neighborhood diner back in Boston, the one he used to patronize every Sunday, claiming a corner booth much like this one so regularly that the staff knew to reserve it for him and Leah.

But the nostalgia didn't ache quite so much anymore. In fact, it brought a faint rise to the corners of his mouth as he pushed his journal aside and folded his hands thoughtfully.

He didn't mind the wait; after all he was specifically here to see Rachel.

When she finally looked up she jumped in surprise, several quarters breaking loose and rolling nearly off the counter. Rachel scrambled for them with both hands, laughing, leaning forward to wave at him and promising to be there in a moment. She was eager to reach his table and bursting with excitement to know what brought him back to town. It had been a good handful of months since the whole incident with the journal and the last time she'd actually seen him.

Back then, as she remembered, Elijah had been as cheerful as a cloudy day and as tense as a trip wire.

Someone must have given the poor man a vacation because he certainly looked more relaxed; there wasn't even a hint of a tie and jacket in sight. The casual-Friday look made Rachel chuckle as she scooped up her neat stacks of coins and dropped them back into their jar.

She grabbed the entire pot of coffee and had soon joined him table side.

"Well, hello, Elijah _Mikaelson_. You see, I remembered your name this time. Do you still take your coffee cold and stale?"

She was joking, recalling the last time he had ordered a cup of coffee and then proceeded to never touch it.

She poured him a hot one anyway and he graciously accepted.

"Thank you, Rachel."

"And what else can I do for you?"

"Join me?" he gestured across from him. "If they can spare you of course. I don't mean to take you away from your work."

"Oh, please," she plopped herself down. "I deserve the break. There are two other girls on shift right now and it's about time they learn to lift a spoon. Pageant types, you know 'em?"

"I believe so," Elijah hummed, his sister coming to mind. "How have you been?"

"Alright, I guess. Not much goes down in small-town America. You coming through this place was the biggest thing to happen in years. People were gossiping for weeks but that's what people do."

"About me?" he asked amused.

"About us. Got into a bit of a scuff with my friend Marlene because she has a habit of running her mouth, trying to convince everyone I knew you, like _knew _you, biblical sense and all."

"Oh," Elijah lowered his cup, short on a response. "That's -"

"None of their damn business one way or another. I tried to set Marlene straight, told her to stop reading so many of those trashy romance novels because they were making her see what wasn't there. Though it didn't help my case when you sent me that letter."

"So you received it?"

"I sure did. That was real nice of you to send but you didn't need to thank me for the whole journal thing. I was happy to get it back to you - and happy you're back now. Thought I might never see you again; folks always say no one drives through this town twice."

"I quite often find myself the exception to the rule."

"Well, I would have written back but I didn't have an address. Assumed you were still on the road. Where'd you go, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Ah - everywhere," he answered her vaguely, though it was the truth. "Most recently I find myself returning from a rather grand expedition up north. Have you heard of the Aurora Borealis, Rachel? Spectacular. All my years and I had never seen it."

"Are those them lights up in the sky like in Canada? They sound real pretty. Wish I could see something like that. All I've seen is the Grand Canyon and I told Marlene it just looks like a big ol' hole in the ground."

"My brother is of a similar opinion."

"Oh, yeah?" she smiled, intrigued. "I didn't know you had a brother. Maybe you should bring him out here for a visit if he likes being outside and hiking and such nonsense. The wolves round here go on camping trips all the time. Marlene keeps dragging me along trying to set me up with one of her pack friends though I told her I'm allergic to dogs - and men who act like them."

She didn't even lower her voice, just went on playing with a packet of sugar and talking about werewolves like they were as common as the locals - which in this town they were.

"I gotta thank you, Elijah, for that letter, for opening my eyes and laying it all out for me. I can be so naive, I swear - werewolves! Like in the stories and everything! And here I was thinking 'Mama Wolf Marlene' was just what folks called her because she's overbearing and likes to stick her nose in everyone's business..."

"To be honest that was not my sole purpose in writing. I felt I needed to explain my broken remarks when we last spoke - and apologize for our less than cordial interaction. I assure you, I am not usually so..."

"Dark and mysterious?" Rachel arched a brow, realizing she still didn't know what he did for a living - or why he knew so much about werewolves.

"You must hate traveling so much," she fished for answers, "especially if it keeps you so far from home."

"The nomadic life suits me - when necessary," he added after a long pause. "I find if I stay in one place too long my thoughts, memories, they sense my isolation and... swarm."

"You mean memories of Leah?" Rachel realized, eyes falling on his journal.

Elijah grew quiet, lowering his cup onto the table and slowly turning it until the handle aligned perfectly parallel to the edge.

It gave him the moment he needed to take a deep breath.

"I was hoping you might be willing to do me a favor," he seemed to ask out of nowhere. "It will not demand too much of your time, I promise."

"Me? Unless you want more coffee or a slice of pie not sure how I can help."

"You knew Leah. You grew up with her, knew her in a way that I did not. You spoke of memories, of Leah -"

He reached out and hovered his hand over his journal.

"I have been collecting them," he continued, setting down his hand. "And I have come back here, to this diner, to you - hoping you might have something to add."

Rachel sat back, feeling honored but also overwhelmed by his request.

"You want me to write something? In there? But that's your personal book."

"I trust you," he said softly, pushing his journal forward across the table.

"And if I recall," he added lightly, "you've seen what's inside already."

Rachel went a bit red but nevertheless pulled the leather book in front of her.

"Well, I'm not sure what I should write. That's a lot of pressure to pick the perfect memory of Leah. I've got so many stories, and they'll all make you laugh out loud, I swear."

"Then there's room in there for them all. I have no doubt you will honor her well."

"All you have to do is ask anyone from Holy Cross and they'll have something good to write about Leah. I remember she was always so nice to us younger kids, especially at Christmas. The other kids at school used to bully the lot of us; guess our conservative second-hand clothes made it obvious we were 'those kids' who had no parents and lived with a bunch of nuns. Anyway, every Christmas, when she was in college, Leah would use her scholarship money to buy all of us in the program presents - whatever was trendy and popular - sneakers, backpacks, stuff that made us fit in and feel good about ourselves. We were young so it didn't take much - but it meant a whole lot."

"Every Christmas?" Elijah asked in amazement.

"And sometimes Easter too. I was still at Holy Cross when she moved away from New Orleans. We were all so bummed when she stopped coming back to visit but she never stopped sending us stuff in all those years."

"I truly never knew..."

"Well, I'll put it in the book then! Got a pen?"

Even as she asked, Rachel began searching for a pen herself; it was only then as she dug around the pockets of her apron that she remembered she had something for him.

"Oh gosh," she said in apology. "I got so excited seeing you this totally slipped my mind - here. It's for you."

She quickly handed over the white square. There was no address, just his name inked across the front in a delicate dark blue script and a large silver moon in the space meant for name of sender.

Running his thumb over the embossment, Elijah recognized the crescent symbol.

"Who gave this to you?" he frowned slightly, turning the envelope in his hands.

"Marlene. Said she got it from a wolf in Tucson who's been holding on to it since he drove in from Dallas. Sorry it's all crumpled; that thing's been passed along from pack to pack all the way across the US. Of course Marlene thought I of all people would know how to get it to you since she thinks we've been writing love letters back and forth. That woman..."

Elijah was too focused to care at all what Marlene thought. Grabbing the knife from the table, he swiftly sliced open the envelope and deftly removed the card inside from its elegant and expensive casing.

His eyes grew wide as they swept across the message.

Rachel leaned in curiously.

"So...what is it?"

"It appears to be an invitation..."

"Like to a party?"

"To a wedding."

"Oh, fun! Who's the lucky gal tying the knot?"

Elijah had to read the invite three times before he was certain himself.

"It seems my niece is getting married. In five days."

"In five days!"

"In New Orleans."

"Oh, how darling! Elijah, that sounds perfect. You finally got a reason to go back."

She wondered why he didn't exactly look thrilled at the prospect.

"Are you and your niece not very close then? Sorry I asked, you just look a little hesitant to get all dressed up and go have some fun."

"It's complicated," he acknowledged simply, leaving a lot to be said.

Rachel may not have known the details but his furrowed brow gave away the gist.

"Hmm, well, some unsolicited advice, Elijah? Go - to the wedding. If your niece worked to put that invitation in your hands she bent over backwards to do so. That means she _wants _you there for her big day. Or if I'm reading this wrong, and you're just worried about what to get her, then my advice is everyone can do with a nice set of towels."

Despite himself, he had to smile. She was right, and not just about the towels.

"Rachel, if I leave you for a moment -"

"Oh, go ahead. I found a pen. I'll just be writing so take your time."

"I appreciate whatever you have to contribute," he made sure she knew, and that she knew what it meant that he was leaving his journal in her hands.

Rising, Elijah slipped his phone from his pocket, dialing in a number he hadn't thought to call in so long it wasn't even saved in his contacts. In his other hand he held the invitation and he now fixed his eyes on the interlocking crescent moons which were clearly meant to represent the union of the bride and groom.

He wasn't completely sure he was ready to return to New Orleans, and even less sure that the city wanted him back, but as Elijah raised the phone to his ear he'd be damned if he missed Hope's wedding.

\

Across the country, as he sat in Rousseau's, Klaus saw his phone light up.


	66. Sense and Sensibility

**AN: Here we are at 150k words! Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing and hold on tight because the end is in sight.**

"Okay, _chérie_, I am off."

Philippe bounded down the staircase into the courtyard, shrugging on a light jacket and trying to remember the long list of things he needed to pick up. Rebekah lowered her clipboard just enough for him to slip in a quick kiss as he rushed out the door.

"I'm doing the rounds down Royal. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Don't forget my dress from the couturier - or the place cards from the calligrapher."

"I'll remember."

"Or the -"

"Rebekah, dear, everything you have asked me to do will be done. Relax, tonight is going to be wonderful. You are wonderful."

"You say that..."

He chuckled and gave her one more kiss of encouragement before buttoning his jacket and heading for the gate. It was terribly early to be already so late, but it was the day before the wedding and so things were a bit chaotic.

And Rebekah was at the center of the storm.

She spun on her heels, surveying the courtyard and feeling like nothing would be ready in time. Checking the schedule on her clipboard she frowned; according to the plan the Compound should be flourishing in blues and silvers by now - not absolutely empty several hours before showtime. While a week was never going to be enough time to plan a wedding, she had not expected to still be making big changes so last minute.

For example, the centerpieces still needed to be approved. So where was the bloody florist? Did punctuality mean nothing anymore? Sure, it was barely dawn and she had forced everyone up early to do her bidding - but there was work to be done! She wondered if she might simply fire the event staff and just do everything herself, because tonight had to be _perfect - _and these people were _incompetent._

After an unforgivable delay of another minute or two, the florist finally carted in the centerpieces.

Rebekah took one look and was forced to correct herself.

These people were _utterly_ _incompetent._

"Does that _look _like cerulean to you? Those aren't even blue! They're periwinkle!"

"Isn't that -"

"No! So go back to whatever meadow you yanked those monstrosities from and hand-pick me the peonies I asked for - _now."_

The courtyard filled with Klaus' laughter as the florist scurried away.

"My, my, you're on a roll, sister. It's barely eight and already another poor soul crumbles beneath the delicate whip of your dictatorship."

"Not now, Nik, I don't have time. The rehearsal dinner is a mere _hours_ away and as you just witnessed I'm ringleader to a circus of color-blind amateurs."

"I'm sure that lovely charm of yours will have them tamed in no time."

"And where are you off to in such a hurry?" she pried pointedly.

"Early morning meeting," Klaus paused, halfway out the door. "In Algiers."

"So you've been summoned I see."

"I can only imagine why."

"Well make yourself useful and tell our recluse of a brother I've left him an extra place at our table tonight. You know, if case he wants to bring someone. A date."

"A date?" Klaus snorted.

"Don't be cruel," Rebekah glared. "If anyone deserves a little fun it's Elijah."

"Fun? Are we talking about the same brother? Or do we have another brother who hasn't been brooding his way across America for the last two years?"

"Then you see why I don't want to ask him myself. Nik, please - do this for me. If I bring up the issue he's going to think I pushing him to bring someone and I don't want to seem insensitive with my suggestion that he should."

"Ah, so you send me instead. How perfectly sensible. Why don't you get Hayley to do it. Or better yet, Hope -"

"Hope went upstate with Aidan for the Governor's ball. She's probably driving back now. Point is, no need to bother her with something as silly as this."

"But do you know? Has she talked to Elijah yet - at all?"

"When could she? If Hope's not in an interview she's in a fitting - or have you forgotten your daughter's walking down the aisle tomorrow."

"Bloody hell, don't remind me."

"Precisely. I don't need to remind you, I need _you_ to talk to Elijah; remind him his participation this weekend is not optional. I don't know what's going through his head but his mind has certainly been somewhere else since he's returned. First he'll make up any excuse not to come into the Quarter and then when I asked his preferences regarding processional hymns he outright declined to have any opinion on the matter. No opinion – on classical music! _Our brother!"_

"Hm. I see your point," Klaus frowned. "Perhaps I could mention something..."

"Good - then that's more thing off my list. Oh, and remember to ask Elijah about his plus-one: that blonde girl he thinks I don't know about."

"_What blonde girl?"_

"Exactly. Now go be a dear and find out."

/

The air was full of music. The river ran steady and high.

And Niklaus was forty minutes late.

It seemed nothing had changed in New Orleans.

The sense of continuity brought a faint smile to Elijah's otherwise gloomy expression. For once his mood was simply reflecting the weather. The hotel's veranda had a wide-sweeping view of the Mississippi and in the early morning light the water was as grey as the sky.

If he narrowed his eyes straight across the river he could see the white towers of St. Louis Cathedral as they loomed tall over Jackson Square.

As the church bells began to toll in the distance he chose to hear them chime in celebration rather than mourning. Although the familiar sights and sounds of New Orleans were stirring up memories of what he had lost Elijah was learning that love, like ghosts, did not always come back to haunt you.

Still, he had thought it would be better for him - for everyone - if he did his part to keep the peace and resided across the river until after the wedding. The Compound was chaotic enough in the wake of the last minute arrangements. Rebekah did not need his less than sanguine self casting shadows on her dinner preparations.

At last the bells across the river stopped their pealing.

Elijah pushed aside the plate of beignets, the only item on his table, his appetite gone. To be fair, he had ordered them for his brother; they were too sweet for his taste, and regardless he hadn't left his room to eat - or wallow in regrets. He had come downstairs to seek advice from his brother.

And speak of the devil.

"He's right out here," he heard the waiter say.

Flattening his tie and leaning forward, Elijah moved the plate of pastries in front of his brother just as he claimed the open seat.

"You're late, Niklaus."

"You were the one who wanted me here so dreadfully early."

"I have matters to discuss - and Rebekah warned me that if I wished to engage you sober that my window of opportunity was rather limited."

"How astute of our sister," Klaus kicked back with a scoff.

"Hmm, yes. How goes her preparations?"

"Why don't you come back and see for yourself? Or are you still hiding over here in Algiers like you always do when there's some _unpleasantness _at home."

"I'm certain I don't know what you mean..." Elijah fumbled.

"So am I wrong in my observation that you have been avoiding Hope?"

"I have not been _avoiding _her, as you so put, Niklaus."

"Well, have you spoken to her yet?

"No, I -"

"Ah! Ah!" Klaus cut him off. "That's all the answer I need. You're going to have to speak to her at some point, Elijah. It's rude to ignore the bride at her own wedding."

"I will of course congratulate her in person tonight."

"That's not the conversation I was envisioning you two having. Be honest with yourself, brother - you and Hope fled from this city for a reason - the same reason. The two of you can't dance around that fact forever."

Elijah was certain this wasn't the advice he had been seeking from his brother - but he found he appreciated it all the same.

"I will be sure to find a moment alone with Hope at the dinner tonight."

"Speaking of, are you bringing along that blonde girl of yours?"

It was such a casual segue that it took Elijah completely by surprise.

"Let me guess," he sighed. "Rebekah."

"I warned you she was astute."

"Well the young woman our sister has mentioned to you, Niklaus - she is merely a friend."

"Right - and is this _friend _joining us tonight for dinner? That is the question."

"I have not asked, since as I _insist_, we are merely acquaintances."

"Oh, now she's just an acquaintance..." Klaus prodded playfully.

But Elijah's unamused expression deepened a shade darker.

"If you are ready to move on from this pointless discussion of semantics, Niklaus, perhaps we could turn the topic to one more germane and discuss the reason I have asked you here this morning."

"That being?"

"Our remarks for tonight's dinner."

"Bah," Klaus grumbled, disappointed this was a working breakfast. "Have you written yours yet?"

"I take it that you have not?"

"Who _writes_ speeches anymore, brother? Everyone knows the most stirring orations come extemporaneously from the heart."

"Precisely my problem," Elijah freely admitted. "I find myself at a loss for what to say."

"You?" Klaus gaped. "Ineloquent?"

"Always the tone of surprise..."

"Can you blame me? Imagine my surprise when out of the blue my brother calls me and decides he wants to return to New Orleans."

"Through a roundabout way but I have returned nonetheless."

"Have you? Or are you here hiding in Algiers while your family still waits across the river for you to come home?"

Klaus leaned in and took Elijah's shoulder before continuing.

"Listen to me and know that what I say I say because I care. Because I understand. Our family, brother, is no stranger to heartache, and we have all lost people we love in every way that a person can be lost. Sometimes they come back to us; more times they do not. But let me share something I have learned, if you'll deign to take advice from your little brother - the stubborn ones, I hear, find ways to never leave. Come back to the Quarter and learn that for yourself."

Elijah stared at his brother, unsure of what to say, unsure if he could say anything that could properly express the emotions he now felt race through him. But Klaus understood and simply patted his brother on the shoulder before leaning back into his seat and grabbing another beignet as he did.

"Speechless, Elijah? My, this _is_ a problem."

"What's a problem? Can I help?"

Both brothers turned to see the waiter ushering in a sleepy-eyed woman in a shirt so oversized it was a dress.

And she was blonde.

Klaus nearly choked on his pastry.

Elijah ignored the outburst and quickly rose from his chair to greet Rachel.

"Good morning. How did you sleep?"

"Never better, though that was an awful lot of bed for just me. The mattress damn near swallowed me up in the middle of the night."

"I am glad to hear the room was comfortable. If I may, I would like to introduce you to someone."

He set his hand on her back and guided her toward the table.

"Rachel, this is my brother, Niklaus. _Niklaus_ \- Miss Rachel St. Ann."

"Oh my gosh," she shook his hand excitedly. "So _you're_ the brother! Elijah told me a little about you on the drive in."

"Yes, Rachel here is from Arizona but grew up in the Quarter. I met her as I was traveling east and she graciously agreed to accompany me the rest of the way."

"I haven't been back to NOLA in ages. Things sure don't change much, do they?"

"They certainly do not," Klaus agreed with a smirk.

Elijah knew exactly what his brother was thinking and warned him against it with a sharp and pointed glance.

"Rachel, please," he picked up cheerfully. "Forgive my rudeness. Join us."

"Oh, I don't want to interrupt," she shook her head. "I'm not even that hungry; just got bored watching cooking shows all alone in my room and came down to see if you were up and about. Then again, if no one wants that beignet there..."

They all took their seats and Elijah's face lit up to watch Rachel snag the last beignet from his brother and devour it like manna from heaven.

Klaus did not mind one bit; this brief interaction had given him plenty of food for thought.

'Astute' did not do Rebekah justice.

"St. Ann," he rolled the name off his tongue. "Such a lovely surname."

"You think?" Rachel smiled. "It's a common enough name in the Quarter."

"Oh, I _know_."

Elijah threw his brother another sharp warning.

"Is this idle chatter necessary?"

"Nonsense. My chatter is far from idle. If you yourself recall our sister is in charge of the seating plan for the rehearsal dinner. I am simply taking stock of Ms. St. Ann's name to ensure there'll be a place card for your lovely date tonight."

"Niklaus, you should know that this is not something Rachel and I have discussed."

"Well, how rude of you then, brother! I assumed you had already extended the invitation as I was under the impression you were _friends._"

"We are."

"Then it's settled."

"Niklaus -,"

"No, it's fine," Rachel jumped in, sensing some tension. "I can keep myself out of trouble tonight, Elijah. Please don't feel pressured to invite me."

"But he should," Klaus added, pushing out his chair.

He came to his feet, and standing by the table between the couple set one hand on the back of both their chairs.

"I think it's time I leave you two _acquaintances_ to get better _acquainted._ Worry not about that speech of yours, Elijah. I'm sure your blonde muse here can provide all the inspiration you need."

He clapped his brother on the shoulder and took his leave.

Elijah just sighed.

"Please forgive my brother. What he lacks in tact he makes up with good intent. For the most part. Sometimes."

"Nah, he's fine," Rachel chuckled. "That was nothing I haven't gotten from Marlene. I don't quite see why two decent-looking people can't be within five feet of each other without folks thinking they're doing the horizontal lindy."

"Only decent-looking?" he faked offense.

"Hey, that's all you're getting, so take it or leave it."

Elijah nodded, understanding - and appreciating - exactly the sort of friendship he was growing with Rachel.

"If I did not invite you earlier," he said more somberly, "it was only because I was unsure of the moment."

"You don't need to explain," she assured him. "I didn't come back to New Orleans with any expectations of you bringing me along to your niece's wedding."

"The invitation nevertheless stands. My only hesitation has been that I have not seen my niece in quite some time and I am uncertain what will happen when I do."

"Then it sounds like you could use a friend tonight for moral support."

"If you would be so kind to do me the honor," he smiled brightly.

"Of course!" Rachel laughed. "But first you gotta tell me about this speech you need to write."


	67. The Four Loves Part I

It would end as it had begun: with a celebration - and everyone had turned out in their finest to attend. The sun was just setting over the walls of the Compound as the guests began to arrive for the dinner. They came in suits of dark blue and dresses that sparkled, arm in arm with gracious smiles as their coats were checked at the door.

As the delicate notes of the grand piano welcomed them warmly, Rebekah watched the ushers show the guests to their seats. In the end, time had been no match for her. Already she overheard wives gushing to their husbands about the elegant simplicity of all they saw around them: the trees were laced with strings of lights as fine as webs of starlight and on every table tiny crescents had been carved into the silver.

Rebekah straightened a fork in passing as she moved through the sea of round tables. With Hope and Aidan at their own table closest to the ballroom, she had assigned the Mikaelson clan to one just slightly to the right. A white card in blue script sat her next to Philippe with Hayley to the right as a buffer between her and Klaus. On the other side of her brother would be Elijah, and next to him - she couldn't believe she was saying - was his date Miss Rachel St. Ann.

Almost against her nature, she was trying not to read too much into the name of her brother's companion for the evening. After all. St. Ann was a common enough name in the Quarter: St. Ann's Church. St. Ann Street. Leah St. Ann.

_Right,_ she reminded herself. _No jumping to conclusions. No time for that._

Joyous bells is the distance signaled that church had let out; with the rehearsal over the most important guests were finally arriving. Soon Hope's familiar laughter floated in above the music.

"Give me twenty minutes," she promised Aidan, still wrapped up in his arms.

"Ten," he bribed her with a kiss. "I'm missing you already."

Hope left her bridegroom to greet guests as she bounded up the stairs toward her dressing room.

"Rebekah!" she waved, leaning over the balcony. "I love the flowers!"

"Do you like the color?"

"Of course! They're perfect! Tell everyone I'll be right back!"

"The blue dress!" her aunt shouted after her. "And I set something out for your hair."

Hope was barely listening; her head was buzzing with a thousand happy thoughts. Between the ball upstate last night and the rehearsal just now she hadn't had a minute to herself to let them settle. Breezing into the guest room, she pushed the door close with her heel and just leaned back against it and sighed.

Her smile slipped just a hair as she brought up her hand and stared at her engagement ring. If only Leah was here, like she was always supposed to be, to share in this moment - to complain about her dress and stuff her face with cake and shout to the world at the top of her lungs that her best friend was getting married.

And just maybe if Elijah were here, it wouldn't feel so much like Leah wasn't.

He hadn't come to the rehearsal - simply never showed up. At the time she'd been too engrossed in not messing up her vows to feel his absence. In hindsight, however, her family had been working overtime so she didn't.

The memory made her beam again. While her mother had been recording Aidan on film sharing increasingly embarrassing anecdotes from their relationship, Klaus and Philippe had found themselves in a bad joke competition - the majority of which only made sense in French and earned them disapproving looks from the officiant.

Hope had never laughed so much in her life.

But as she crossed the room to her vanity, that sense of something missing hit her hard. Fortunately it was impossible to stay sad on a day like today.

And tomorrow...

Her wedding gown, all perfect and pressed, waited patiently to be put on the next evening. Her dress for tonight hung next to it just as eagerly ready to be worn. Hope couldn't help but gasp as she fully laid eyes on it for the first time; although she had made Rebekah promise to keep things simple, her aunt had begged to go off book for this one thing.

Tiny gems of infinitesimal perfection swept across the wave-like material of the skirt. 'Blue' was the crudest way to describe its colour, a sapphire so dark it recalled the sky at midnight, so blue it was almost black and yet held all the light of the stars.

It was almost too much, but she _loved_ it.

The tiara however...

When her aunt had mentioned she'd set something out for her hair Hope had been picturing a gemmed comb or a studded headband - not a fully encrusted diamond crown.

Hope picked up the diadem carefully from the vanity and turned toward the mirror. Yet even before she tried it on she knew this was a no-go.

There was a knock at the door as she set it on her head.

"Ah, there you are," Rebekah waltzed in. "How goes it?"

"I'm debating," Hope admitted, watching the diamonds catch the light in the mirror.

"Aren't they lovely?"

"You mean the crown jewels of France?"

"Oh, don't give me that look. I didn't steal them - outright."

Hope laughed, turning around as she pulled the diadem from her head.

"It's beautiful, Rebekah, but it's not really _me_ anymore."

"Anymore? What happened to that little girl who every night used to make me reread the part of the story where the princess finally marries her prince?"

"She learned that the real world can be better than the books."

"If you're lucky," Rebekah added wistfully. "Well then, you won't break my heart if you don't wear it - I _suppose_. Feel free to keep it though. Trust me, France won't mind. Just don't tell Philippe."

"Cross my heart," Hope laughed. "You better go down and let everyone know I'll be a couple minutes."

"Take your time, love. It's not like we're going to start without the guest of honor. Just remember the longer you're up here the longer your father's down at the bar."

\

In the courtyard, Klaus was indeed glued to the bar. He lowered his drink for a moment to cast his eyes through the crowd of people now invading his home. He hoped Rebekah was satisfied with herself; her master plan had turned out quite spectacularly.

It was undeniable that the design of the evening had been flawlessly executed - so far that is. There was always time for discord to strike, particularly if Elijah didn't show up.

Fortunately where there's smoke there's fire and Rachel had just walked in.

The wide-eyed girl he'd met just this morning looked more like a woman tonight. Someone must have told her that coral was her color and it never hurt to show a little skin.

Klaus tried to subtly turn away so she wouldn't catch him staring but of course she recognized him immediately through the crowd; she was conspicuously alone and didn't know a soul but him.

He set aside his drink as she floated up.

"Rachel St. Ann, my pleasure. _Again._"

"And you're the brother - again. Nik...?"

"Niklaus. But, please, call me Klaus. I see my brother made the right choice after all. Don't tell me he's abandoned you already."

"Elijah had something he had to do alone. I told him I'd be fine rubbing elbows on my own."

"Quite the independent spirit you are."

"When you leave home at eighteen you kinda have to be."

"Home? Ah, that's right. My brother mentioned you grew up in the Quarter."

"Just outside it actually, but the place where I lived was affiliated with St. Ann's."

"You mean the Holy Cross House for Displaced and Orphaned Children?"

"Not sure it's been called that since the 1700s, but yes," Rachel squinted curiously. "You and your brother sure know a lot about New Orleans. I wasn't at all surprised when Elijah told me he used to teach history because he's always going on with random fun facts."

"Indeed my brother has a multiplicity of mundane hobbies, playing professor being one of his more recent."

"Oh, I know. He showed me around the campus when we were in Boston."

If Klaus had been holding his drink he would have dropped it and not even noticed.

"My brother was in Boston_?"_

"Is that a problem?" Rachel blinked, confused by his tone. "I don't see why a little detour home should cause such a big stir. Not sure about you but I don't usually keep my fancy clothes in my car. Then again, I also don't have a whole room in my house just for suits."

Klaus found himself gobsmacked by her casual revelations. Not only had his brother returned to a home he had sworn never again to after Leah but if she had been inside then Elijah had indeed removed the lock from the door.

Rachel, sensing it was maybe time to move along, held up the shiny box in her hands and plucked at the large silver bow.

"Anyhoo, I should go find my seat. Do you know where I can put this? I played it safe and just got them towels. Everyone loves towels."

Still processing his thoughts, Klaus hadn't recovered enough to disagree.

"There's a collection by the piano," he eventually managed.

"Super, thanks, and since we're at the same table I'll be seeing you soon - _again,_" Rachel laughed.

She gave a little wave before shimmering back into the crowd. Klaus had barely enough time to breath before he was bombarded on both sides.

"_That's _her?" Hayley whispered over him. "I didn't believe she was real when you told me."

"Of course she is!" Rebekah twittered. "What more proof do you need?"

"So - her and Elijah. You really think they're...?"

"_Obviously."_

"Ladies, please," Klaus couldn't believe he was saying. "Leave Rachel alone."

"Oh, _come on_, Nik. It's all in good fun. And since when have you not enjoyed the sport of it all?"

"Believe it or not, Rebekah, I have no intention to interfere with our brother's happiness. And besides, I've had my fun interrogating the refreshingly frank Rachel St. Ann. As painfully normal as she has turned out to be, I do believe she is exactly the sort of companion our brother needs - a friend."


	68. The Four Loves Part II

The hum of dinner guests floated up from the courtyard as Hope hurried to finish adding the final accents to her evening dress. Opening the jewelry box her aunt had set aside she carefully lifted a set of earrings that twinkled as she raised them to her ears. She had just looped the second chandelier when there was a soft knock again at the door.

It was probably Rebekah coming to collect her; ten minutes had been a gross underestimate of time.

"It's still open," Hope called over her shoulder, diving back into the box. The necklace she drew out dangled a large sapphire on a delicate chain - something old and something blue all in one, she supposed. Listening to the door creak open behind her, she squinted at the tiny fastener and unlinked the ends of the necklace. With all these curls cascading down her shoulders she was going to need a little help putting it on.

"Rebekah, do you mind? I can't seem to -"

But of course it wasn't her aunt; it was the last person she had expected to show up after his long absence.

Elijah hovered in the doorway, testing the temperature between them with a cautious introduction.

"Aidan told me where I might find you. I hope I'm not intruding."

Hope just shook her head, still recovering from his sudden reappearance in her life.

"May I?" he came forward, noticing her predicament with the necklace.

She listened to the soft shuffling behind her as Elijah first set something aside on the table near the door before quietly crossing the room.

Hope took a calming breath as he joined her at the vanity. Her uncertainty was starting to show; she hadn't had a moment alone all week and now here she was alone with Elijah; with someone she had once ordered to never show his face and at one point denied they were ever even family.

But if any of that history hung in the air now it was undetectable and Hope showed her appreciation with a small smile as she let him take the necklace from her hands. Drawing back her hair, she watched her uncle carefully through the looking glass as he gently settled the chain around her neck.

For a moment Elijah concentrated on the tiny antique fastener in silence. When he did speak Hope sensed his words were not as steady as his hands.

"I wanted to apologize for my absence earlier this evening. I was delayed on a particular project."

"To be fair, you didn't miss anything you won't see tomorrow."

"Still, I do not want you to think I was avoiding you on purpose."

"Really, Elijah. It's fine. I honestly didn't expect to see much of you considering."

His hands paused on the clasp and for a second Hope thought she had said something to upset him.

But then the hook finally caught and he stepped back in awed satisfaction.

"I must say you do that jewel far more justice than Marie Antoinette ever could."

"Then perhaps I'll wait just a little longer before giving it back to France," she laughed.

Elijah's half smile betrayed his own amusement but he remained reserved, wary of the uncertainty which was still growing around them.

"You look beautiful, Hope. That goes without saying."

"Thank you," she said again softly, adding hesitantly "...and for being here for the wedding. I know it must not have been easy to just sweep back into New Orleans after -,"

She paused, choosing a different ending for her sentence.

" - after all that time away."

It was nevertheless evident Elijah understood where she had been going with her thought. It felt like Leah's ghost was standing unannounced in the room with them.

"When I received the invitation there was no debate," he said, contrite. "I would never have missed this chance to see you shine so beautifully as you do. Despite my behavior the last time we spoke, despite what was said between us, believe me, Hope, when I say I have only wished you happiness since."

"And I only wished to share some of that happiness with you, Elijah. But now that you're here..."

Elijah sensed her hesitation and realized what was to happen next. He could try to forestall it or he could accept this much as well: she was going to say it was his fault her best friend wasn't here, that she might have invited him back but she never could forgive him. And maybe Hope would look him in the eye and admit she had missed him, maybe throw her arms around him and promise she still loved him - but in the end she would ultimately take a step back and say that he should go.

So it took him by surprise when she said nothing at all.

Instead, letting her actions speak for her heart, Hope rolled the moonlight stone over her wrist and slid it over her hand. It was the first time she had taken it off since the night that Leah had died and she paused for a bittersweet moment before parting with it at last.

When Elijah realized her intention, he immediately refused.

"I can't take this from you," he protested, though his voice broke as his eyes fell on the bracelet. "Hope, please - I cannot. She gave it to you."

"I know - but never for me to keep. I've had a lot of time to think about what Leah wrote to me the night we both lost her, Elijah. When she thought she was leaving she gave me this as a reminder to come find her. When she _knew_ she was leaving...well, I think then Leah hoped it would remind me to come find you."

Elijah looked up at her with eyes drowning in emotion. He had never known what Leah had wanted Hope to read in that bible, only that she had asked as she lay in his arms that he make sure she would understand.

But it was only now that he was starting to understand himself.

Hope reached out and slowly took his hand in hers, turning it outward until she could drop the silver chain into his open palm.

"Take it, Elijah. Please. In grief we either try to forget or forget to let go. It's being together that allows us to move on - and I am, Elijah, I'm happy here in New Orleans; I have a future to look forward to that would never have been possible without Leah. This bracelet wasn't her gift to me - it was this chance at happiness that I'm taking tomorrow. Now you need to be ready too take a chance too. So if this little piece of Leah will help you move forward, than nothing, _nothing_, makes me happier, than to finally give it back to you."

Hope curled her fingers around his as his hand closed around the bracelet.

"I'm sorry you had to mourn her alone, Elijah. But not anymore. I missed you and I'm sorry and I love you so much."

She wrapped her arms around him, soaking in that familiar smell of parchment and mahogany, of sunny afternoons as they played at the piano or early mornings as they fooled around the kitchen. And as he hugged her back tightly there was a scent like cajun spice, like the city itself that had welcomed them back, and it was mixed with sweet music and sour sorrow and the refreshing forgiveness of family.

It had always reminded Hope of home and it would always remind her of Elijah.

"I have something for you," he suddenly confessed, kissing her forehead as he slowly drew away. "And I promise I did not smuggle it through customs."

"Oh, Elijah," she laughed. "You of all people didn't need to get me a gift!"

She watched him slip Leah's bracelet into his breast pocket, carrying it close to the heart as he retreated toward the door and lifted something from the table.

"What is it?" she crept closer, curious, yet he clearly wanted her to discover that for herself. Elijah kept himself turned toward the table, only pivoting slightly to extend her the gift. It was a book, Hope realized, as she came forward to accept it, only growing more curious when she noticed her uncle was trying not to laugh.

"What's so funny?" she slowly opened the cover, growing even more confused. The book was almost completely blank except for a hefty portion at the beginning. Some of the pages, however, had been bookmarked by various photographs.

As Hope flipped through the journal, one of them tried to flutter to the floor, but she quickly plucked it from the air rolling her eyes and laughing.

"Now I see what the joke was - your attempt to scrapbook."

"A talent I do not possess," he admitted ruefully. "Forgive my best efforts however."

"Elijah, what's this a picture of?" she blinked, flipping over the photo she had saved.

She immediately recognized the scene: they both looked so young: she - smiling like a fool for the camera; Leah, all dressed up in the best dress she owned. They posed in the kitchen of a house that no longer existed. It was the photograph her mother had taken when her new friend from school had come over for dinner; it had barely been a month into their senior year and yet already she had seemed like part of the family.

Hope hadn't seen this photo in over six years.

"Where on earth did you find this?" she looked up amazed.

"Among Leah's collection. She had a box dedicated to your friendship."

"I never knew..."

"Neither did I. Not until I went back and looked."

"You mean around your townhouse? You went back to Boston?"

"With a little help," he openly admitted, moving in closer to peer over her shoulder. Hope was shuffling through the pages, realizing every photograph went along with some of the text.

"You will find the majority of the journal blank," he explained. "That is intentional. I hope you will have the desire to add your own stories to those I have collected - and those I have added myself."

"All these?" she flipped through faster. "From people who knew Leah?"

"It is the reason I was late this evening. I was meeting with some people who knew her long before us."

"You're not kidding," Hope sighed in shock, pulling out a photo of a ragtag group of children. They were all sitting in rows, tallest standing in the back, with a sign along the wall that read: The Disciples of Holy Cross.

And front and center, age eight, was a precociously adorable Leah.

"Oh my God, her hair is so _red!_"

"I thought you might enjoy that."

"I do!" Hope laughed wildly, skimming the bookmarked page. "Elijah, this is wonderful. I don't even know where to start reading..."

"I suggest you begin with your father's retelling of the fountain incident at your aunt's wedding, as it seems most appropriate for the occasion."

On his recommendation Hope lifted the photo of her and her best friend as bridesmaids in terrible taffeta dresses.

"How do you even _have_ this?" she laughed. "I thought Leah destroyed all the evidence that she ever wore all that green."

"Rebekah had a copy and was more than willing to offer it. If I recall she was not a fan of what happened after that photograph was taken."

"Oh, she was _livid._ Leah tore off those puff sleeves as soon as she could. By the end of the night she'd destroyed the whole dress."

"Since jumping into the fountain did not help the matter much."

"You say having jumped right in after her!"

They both laughed and Hope let the harmony of their happiness overwhelm her. Simply seeing Elijah smile again brought it all back - all the hilarious moments, all the funny faces, all the sparkling laughter that Leah had gifted them. They had mourned her separately for long enough: it was time to celebrate her together.

"We should reenact that later tonight, you and I," she said in all seriousness. "We can start a new tradition."

"And Rebekah will be just as furious."

"And it's not even her wedding this time!"

Rebekah's ears must have been burning because she appeared in the doorway looking less than amused.

"Whatever you two are plotting do it later. Hope, it's time to start. I assume we don't want the guests eating each other before the first course."

"I'll be right down," Hope promised, looking up at Elijah. "We're all good here."

"Well, about bloody time," Rebekah smiled knowingly. "I'll see the two of you downstairs together."

**AN: I promise to have the next chapter up soon but I keep tearing up writing it which makes typing hard! :D**


	69. The Four Loves Part III

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention please..."

As the waiters cleared the tables, Klaus took his place in front of the crowd.

"Before the evening devolves into carousing and cocktails I would like to take a moment to lead a toast in honor of the bride. But perhaps first I should introduce myself. I am certain all of you know me as Klaus Mikaelson - Original, hybrid, artist - _brother, _all names that I have gone by in my lifetime - names which we are given and are meant to define us; they are capable of holding us back, or inspiring us forward. But the one name that has truly changed my life is that of _father_."

Hope blushed and hid her face in Aidan's shoulder as the audience awed in unison.

"Those of you who know your history," her father continued, "are already well aware that circumstances forced me to send Hope away when she was but an infant. But on that day I made a promise to myself – and a promise to her – that she would always be protected, always be loved, and that one day she would return to me."

"_Oh, Dad,_" she sighed softly, and Aidan squeezed her hand tighter as she brushed away a tear.

Klaus was misty eyed himself. He gestured grandly to his daughter.

"All of you are here tonight because you know this beautiful woman as Hope Mikaelson: the Labonair heir, the princess of the Quarter – my daughter, tonight a queen in her own right. Now usually this is the part of the speech when I tell a story about Hope and no doubt end up embarrassing her greatly. My plan for this evening was to recount the day she came home from school trying to convince me to let her go on a date with some boy she claimed to have met on campus, some ambitious and fearless young lad - now if only I remembered his name..."

He paused for effect and Aidan sheepishly raised his hand causing the tables to burst into loud laughter and applause.

"Ah, that's right," Klaus played along. "Well, then since I think we all know how that story ends why not just skip to the punch. Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado I ask that you raise your glasses and join me in a toast - to Hope Mikaelson, my beautiful daughter - who has never let herself be defined by any name, but who everyday bestows on me the title of proud father. To her eternal joy and happiness, wherever life may lead her. Cheers."

"Cheers!" the courtyard echoed, breaking out into howls as Aidan and Hope kissed.

The clicking of glasses settled as Elijah rose to take his brother's place. He caught Rachel's smile of encouragement and nodding his appreciation turned confidently to the crowd.

"Good evening," he began genteelly. "Unlike Niklaus I am certain I need no introduction to most of you. For quite some time I was no stranger to this city; I am known for my work with the Faction, or as Hope's mysterious, if not eccentric, uncle - or more often simply as 'the other brother.'"

He paused for their laughter, slipping one hand into his pocket with a smile.

"What you may not know, however, is that I have only recently returned to New Orleans - forty-eight hours ago to be precise. And yet seeing everyone joined here tonight has reminded me that despite distance, despite time, there remains one force powerful enough to bring us all together. Now I have been warned by my dear sister not to bore you lovely people, so I shall err on the side of practicality and aim to share a lesson I myself have only recently learned."

From their table Hope and Aidan intertwined their hands and leaned into each other to listen to Elijah's speech. Time was the best teacher, and time and trial had taught him everything he knew on the topic of love.

_Storge_ was a familial love, the fondness between family. For centuries he and his brother had kept their family safe, relying on the others to bring out the best in themselves. Eventually they had returned to New Orleans for a new beginning and that was how he had crossed paths with the mother of Niklaus' child.

_Philia, _the Greeks called it, was a friendship, the connection between two people thrust together by fate. For months he and Hayley had circled each other like two stars; but in the end Hope became the center of her mother's universe, and he was left alone.

For what they had was _eros_, the passion between two people who have found each other serendipitously bonded - two halves of whole, the type of love that came on hot and flamed out quickly and left you scarred and scorned.

But this type of love could also last, if you were lucky, and when it did it was to be honored and celebrated.

And so despite the love he had lost himself Elijah had returned to New Orleans for his niece's wedding, for between him and Hope there would always be _agape_, the final form of affection - the power of charity and forgiveness no matter the sin.

And because it was unconditional, it was the strongest of the four loves.

"And so my advice to you, my dear Hope, and to Aidan, on the eve of your wedding, is to cherish love in whatever form it may find you - and to be bold enough to always give it a chance. Love is not a prize to be guarded but a gift to be shared - and tomorrow we will share in the joy the two of you have brought to this city, to each other, and to me. Congratulations, and a toast to the bride and groom."

The tables drummed up enthusiastic applause as the guests all raised their glasses toward the happy couple. But Hope was looking only at Elijah, and mouthed a tiny 'thank you' as she crossed her hands over her heart.

\

The bells from the cathedral rang joyously over Jackson Square; the gates had been thrown open to the city and the reception was in full swing. Hope now stood next to her bridegroom as they greeted guests at the end of the receiving line.

Luckily by now Aidan was well practiced in people coming up to congratulate him.

"Nice work, my boy," his father clasped his hand. "You managed to look like you knew what you were doing up there. Way to do a Thompson proud. And Hope, my darling, you look _radiant_."

"Oh, _stop_," she blushed. "Mr. Thompson, you're too kind."

"No, no, call me _Liam_. I insist. You just married my son. That makes us family."

"Dad, save the sweet stuff for your speech," Aidan chuckled. _"Please."_

"Oh, alright. Your old man will shuffle along then. Just don't be in a huff when I come by later to steal your girl for a dance."

"_Dad!"_

"I look forward to it," Hope said sincerely and waved as he waltzed off.

"Retirement's done your dad well," she teased her new husband.

"He's your dad now too," he leaned over and kissed her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

They greeted the next guest together.

"Sister Mary Elizabeth, thank you for coming!"

"How did you like the ceremony?" Hope added.

"Oh, it was lovely! The children thought so too."

"So it was _them_ I heard cheering," Aidan laughed. "I was wondering who our fans were."

"Well, thank you, Sister, for bringing them over, and please make sure the children know they can have all the cake and cookies they want. The buffet is open to everyone."

"Did I hear someone say cookies?" a familiar accent floated down the line.

Hope picked up the hem of her dress and leapt into his arms.

"Ilya! You came! I can't believe you could make it! Ilya, this is my fi - my _husband_, Aidan Thompson. Aidan, Ilya Volkov."

"I've heard great things about you," Aidan shook hands firmly. "And you have certainly come a long way to join us. Thank you, and welcome to our town."

As the two men chatted pleasantly, Hope peeked down the line of guests and realized she didn't quite know the next girl.

"Hi," she shook her hand with sudden recognition. "You were at the dinner last night, right?"

"Sure was. The name's Rachel. I was sitting at the table with your folks."

"Of course. _Of course_. You're Elijah's new...uh, girl...person."

"Friend. Just a friend."

"Ah, _good._"

Hope immediately realized how that had sounded and smiled apologetically, touching Rachel's arm.

"What I meant to say is, it's good to finally meet you, Rachel. I appreciate you coming - and for looking out for Elijah."

"Oh, Elijah can look out for himself," she laughed. "I just tagged along for the dancing."

\

Outside the gates, Elijah walked the perimeter of the park. In the square couples danced in tiny clusters to the soothing symphony of the jazz quartet. Rebekah and Philippe were no doubt somewhere lost in the milieu, and he had just recently seen Klaus pull Hayley onto the dance floor as well.

And of course at the center of it was Hope and Aidan. Between the iron rungs of the fence he could see them still dancing, so close and so slowly like they were twirling through a dream.

Stopping to watch them, Elijah grew wistful. Sometimes it felt like this city was made for the young. But he didn't mind lingering along the sidelines of it all. It was often pleasant enough to simply watch another's story unfold, and in truth it bought him a great deal amount of ease simply knowing Hope had found her happily ever after at last.

And besides, out here in the street was where the food was.

Long, white linen tables of tiered cakes and desserts had been set out for the guests in the square in front of the cathedral. Although the spread was vibrant and colorful in itself Elijah's eyes found themselves drawn to the bright yellow of a dress which puffed out large like at tulip on the tiny slip of a girl who wore it.

She could barely reach over the table.

"Please, allow me."

Easily reaching the top of what he could only imagine was some sort of confectionary Christmas tree, Elijah plucked a cream-colored pastry ball and offered it to the girl on a tiny white plate.

"Thank you," she accepted it politely. "Do you want one?"

"I'm not quite sure what they are."

She pointed to an ornate placard at the base of the towering dessert.

"And what exactly is a _croquembouche_?" Elijah asked in all seriousness.

"I don't know. I can't read."

Ah.

Elijah chuckled to himself. He had somehow forgotten that small children were rarely literate in their own language, let alone a foreign one.

Now he was definitely feeling old.

He watched the girl skip away from the table, her patent-leather shoes clicking loudly across the stone. She had a head full of dark curls which bounced as she went and a precocious sense of confidence for such a small child alone in a crowd. He stood by the table for a moment longer, wondering if a guardian would appear.

But the longer the girl sat on her bench all by herself the more Elijah's curiosity drove him to inquire.

He brought along a few more cream puffs to win her good will.

"Hello again," he stood over her smiling. "I hoped I might share your bench."

"Did you bring those for me?" she pointed to the plate.

"A shameless bribe," he admitted, sitting down beside her. The girl didn't seem to mind - or care, but eagerly accepted his offering of pastries, getting sugar all over her dress as she immediately scarfed one down.

Tugging his handkerchief free, Elijah offered it to her as a napkin.

"Oh," she grabbed it. "Thank you, mister."

"Do you have a name?"

"Yes. Do you?"

"Elijah."

"That's a funny name."

"Then you should meet my brother."

"I don't have a brother," she mumbled with her mouth full. "Who's yours?"

"The woman in white is my niece," he revealed. "Her name is Hope. Her father is my brother."

"_You know the princess?!" _the girl gasped in amazement.

"I guess I do," he chuckled. "And the prince as well. His name is Aidan."

They both took a moment to glance between the trees, catching a glimpse of the happy couple as Aidan spun Hope around for the cheering crowd of guests.

The girl stuck out her tongue in disgust.

"Ugh, will they _ever _stop kissing?"

"I wouldn't hold your breath."

Elijah continued to observe the newlyweds dance, catching sight of his date and her dance partner as they swirled around in dresses of complementary blue.

"Is that your princess?" the girl asked, noticing him staring at Rachel.

"Not quite," he gently explained. "Though it seems she has found one of her own."

She tugged on his arm to hand him back his handkerchief.

"Here you go, mister. I forgot your name."

"And I still don't know yours."

"I'm Faith," she kicked out excitedly. "F-A-I-T-H."

"A lovely name indeed," he folded up his square, asking innocently: "And where are your parents, Faith? Have they left you all alone?"

The girl in yellow stared down at her plate, gripping it in her tiny hands. Elijah wondered what he could have possibly said to make such a sunny child suddenly so sad.

But then he remembered that Aidan had invited all the children from Holy Cross to the wedding.

"Then I guess you can say I am alone as well," he sat back. "Aren't we a pair."

"A pair of what?" she frowned, gobbling down another cream-puff.

"A very good question," Elijah found himself asking as well.

Noticing her plate was empty, Faith jumped up undaunted from the bench.

"I want to eat a cupcake now. Do you want one too?"

She reached out her hand, blinking up with large doe eyes, just waiting for him to realize there was only one answer and he didn't have a choice.

So rising to his feet, Elijah decided to be bold.

"Why not?"

And he took her hand.

**End of Part 8 (?)**

**The End (?)**


	70. Ex Libris

**One year later.**

Hope sat across the table trying not to fidget. Outside it was a cold and rainy morning but in here she was feeling hot and stuffy in her suit. She was starting to get nervous; her editor hadn't looked up in what must have been at least fifteen solid minutes. The only sound in the office was her slowly turning the pages and the clock on the wall keeping time.

Twenty minutes.

Twenty-five.

Finally, her editor turned to the very last page.

Twenty-nine.

Thirty.

She sat back, pulling off her glasses.

"Eh...no."

"No?" Hope's heart sank. "You don't like it?"

"Not that ending I don't. That may pass with some other houses but not around here. Tell me this, Mrs. Thompson - "

"It's still Mikaelson."

"It doesn't matter what your name is, it will take more than a famous one to get published here. Now I assumed you came to this publishing house because of our reputation for working with supernatural clients. Ever since that witch in England all those years back made a fortune off selling fact as fiction I've had witches, vampires, and werewolves knocking at my door to do the same. And then who should call me out of the blue one day than the one person in the world who's all three."

"I wanted to work with you because you're good," Hope explained simply.

"Oh, I'm the _best_ \- which means I'm going to force just that out of you. We're not working anymore with some draft you had scribbled in a journal, my dear. If you want a bestseller, it's got to be perfection."

"So what should I do?" Hope asked eager to learn.

"You can start by finishing the damn thing," her editor pushed the manuscript forward. "The book needs a final chapter - it needs a happy ending."

"But what's happier than a wedding? Why can't I just end my book with me getting married?"

"Because you have two main characters but only one happy ending. What are you and Elijah supposed to do - share? Your readers aren't going to appreciate slepping through seventy chapters for him to end up alone at a _wedding_ of all places. I didn't realize we were marketing this book as a tragedy."

Hope thought it best not to tell her editor she was being a bit dramatic.

"He's not _alone_," she tried to sell. "He's with Rachel."

"Are they sleeping together?"

"No -"

"Then he's _alone_. But easy solution: just write them together."

"But I can't do that. That's not how it happened..."

"Oh, who's gonna know?"

"I will!"

Hope threw herself back in her seat in frustration while her editor arched a perfectly scuplted brow.

"Sorry," she apologized. "It's just important to me to tell the truth."

"That's fine. There's no problem with having a little integrity, especially as a writer. But you also have to have an _ending - _and one that satisfies. So work on it. Though... just between you and me - why didn't Rachel end up with Elijah?"

"She doesn't like men."

"Who does?! PS, I'll email you about changing those names in the final print. How does _Ethan Mitchelson_ sound?"

Her editor, in true form, didn't even wait for her answer. Hope watched her push a button on the intercom with a perfectly manicured finger.

"Gloria, darling - prepare my 9:00."

"Wait, that's it? You're kicking me out?"

"We're done here, Ms. Mikaelson. I've given you your homework, dear. You know what you need to do."

"But I can't write about a happy ending that hasn't happened yet."

"Then you'll never get published, simple as that. I'm not asking you to reinvent the wheel, sweetheart. I essentially like what I've read so far. Memoirs are definitely hit or miss but this story you've got here with your family and Mikael has potential."

"It's not a _story._ It actually happened," Hope frowned.

"Oh, but you can tell me, darling. Did it really?

"Yes! All of it! As I disclosed from the start I made one change to the facts but everything else is true."

"A significant change."

"Call it poetic license."

"I would say, but I like it. Still, it might push your memoir into the fiction category. I'll have to run the issue by the others in non-fiction."

"Wait," Hope got excited, "so you're seriously considering publishing my manuscript?"

"Slow down, grasshopper. Get me that ending first."

/

Hope tucked her manuscript back into her bag and dragged her feet through the lobby. Beyond the doors Aidan was waiting with an umbrella and an eager ear.

"How'd it go?" he kissed her cheek.

"Not terrible..." she admitted.

"But not so great either I take it. Talk to me."

Linking arms, they began to stroll down the sidewalk, cars splashing loudly in the busy Boston street.

"Well, for one," Hope explained, "I'm about 95% sure my editor is part harpy. The entire time she was reading the last chapters she kept tapping her long red nails on the table - _click click click_. It was torture trying to guess what she was thinking."

"Well, I'm sure she loved it," he added encouragingly.

"Aidan, this is publishing. No one loves anything unless it sells a million copies."

"Which I'm sure it will."

"But they haven't even offered me a deal yet. It's like they don't trust me to follow through."

"You are Klaus Mikaelson's daughter. I'm sure they're just afraid he'll have some strong objections to the book being published."

"I've already guessed most of them. I'm having my editor help me change all the names - somewhat. You're now Aiden with an 'e' and I'm just sticking with Hannah. But that's standard procedure when publishing something like this for the masses, and honestly my Dad doesn't care; he just told me not to sell the movie rights. Still don't know if he was joking though..."

"And Elijah?"

"You mean Ethan?" Hope laughed. "No, he's good too. After all, he was the one who inspired me to write the book in the first place. When Elijah gave me that journal with all those stories about Leah, all those pictures - it kinda felt that it was now my sacred duty to preserve all those memories of her - you know, _her_ story. So I started writing and the next thing you know - _bam_, book."

"I'm so proud of you," Aidan paused, standing to face his wife in the rain. "And I love you..."

"But you're about to ask me for something," she smiled knowingly.

"Permission for furlough. Babe, I know you wanted us to explore Boston together but I need to head to the airport and get back to New Orleans. The City Council just called a big financial meeting for tonight and the mayor kind of needs to be there."

"Well, permission granted then. I was planning to stay a few more days on my own anyway. Maybe walk around a bit, get inspired to write that last chapter."

"And will you be okay staying alone at the hotel? I can call and have them extend the reservation."

"No need," Hope smiled. "You're forgetting I know someone in the area who's more than willing to let me crash."


	71. Ex Libris (2)

Elijah stood in his doorway in open mouthed awe.

"Hope, what a pleasant surprise...if not entirely unexpected."

"I was in the area," she glossed over quickly, peeking around him. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," he stammered apologetically, stepping aside to welcome her through.

Closing the front door behind her, Elijah ushered Hope down the hallway into the main room of his sprawling town home.

"Mind your footing," he added, embarrassed at the mess. "The house has become a tad...disorganized."

He wasn't kidding. Every inch of floor space was littered with towering stacks of books and cardboard boxes: some open and empty; some already tapped closed.

Leaning down, Hope picked up a copy of _Henry V _from one of them.

"What's with the loitering library?" she waved the book at him. "Please don't tell me you're moving."

"Simply moving things around," he exhaled, looking around the room. "I think it's time I finally clean house."

She looked up horrified, realizing what he meant.

"These are _Leah's_ books, aren't they? Elijah, you can't just kick them to the curb!"

"Nonsense. I would never abuse a book in such a manner."

"That is nowhere near my point," Hope frowned, crossing her arms tightly in front of her.

In response, Elijah simply picked up another small stack of books and made a show of gently lowering them into one of the open boxes.

"How have you been, Hope?" he completely changed the subject. "And your parents?"

"My _parents_," she snipped, "are vacationing on some tropical island that starts with an A."

"Aruba?"

"No, the other one..."

"Antigua."

"That's it. I'm sure they're happily eating their way through the locals as we speak."

"And yet here you are stuck with me in chilly, rainy Boston," he said blithely, hoping to make his niece smile. He sensed her annoyance with him, or maybe something else besides the rain had already dampened her day.

"How did your meeting go this morning? I assume by 'in the area' you were referring to the realm of your tyrannical editor."

"If dragons were real she would be one. I know she's the best in the business but - _ugh_. She's been breathing down my neck for months to get me to finish my book."

"I gathered you had in fact done just that."

"Then let me rephrase: she's been breathing down my neck to get me to finish my book _how she wants me to finish it_."

Hope sighed, clearly frustrated with the situation.

Both of them.

Slowly walking over to the half-empty bookshelf she made a deliberate point of loudly putting Leah's copy of Shakespeare back on the wall.

"Apparently my book needs a _happier_ happy ending," she then added, looking pointedly at her uncle.

"I didn't realize that was possible."

"Well, the book's being pushed into fiction so - Elijah, _what are you doing?"_

He froze, having just set another stack of books into one of the open boxes.

"Chores," he said innocently.

"And by _chores_ you mean tossing all of Leah's things," she grumbled, kneeling to shuffle through one of the half-filled boxes.

She was scandalized to find it full of all the mail that had still been coming to the house in Leah's name.

"Elijah, you can't just throw away someone else's mail!"

"Hope, it's been three years."

"_And?_ How is the passage of the earth around the sun any excuse?"

"I am trying to move on - or was I meant to take away another message from your manuscript?"

"Wait, so you got the copy I sent you...and you_ actually _read it?"

"Of course - though I will admit at times with excruciating effort. That is to say nothing against your prose of course. Hope, you are positively gifted, even if your talent at times flirts with an uncomfortable lack of discretion."

"You can't censor the truth," she defended her work. "And creativity always calls for a little embellishment here and there."

"And I do suppose no child of Niklaus was ever destined to lack creativity," he said as genuine praise.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, everyone's getting pseudonyms - but don't let that make you think you're off the hook. _You, _Elijah, still can't give up on Leah like this."

"I would have assumed 'giving up' necessitated some previous persistence on my part," he added stiffly.

"Please - persistence is your middle name. In a thousand years you never gave up on those you love - why are you doing it now? Have you already forgotten that speech you made at my wedding? All those things you said about being _bold_ and taking _chances_ \- "

"That advice was for you and Aidan, Hope. If I ever followed my own I am certain I would be a happier man."

"Yeah, but Leah -"

" - is gone - and I believe this conversation has exhausted itself. Let's put it to rest, Hope. Please."

He went back to his boxes, rolling up his sleeves and gathering up more of Leah's books in his arms, understanding they just couldn't stay here if she wasn't.

Hope watched him work with a growing understanding of her own: before she could write that happy ending she was gonna have to create it herself.

Elijah looked up curiously as she dug around her bag for her phone and quickly punched in a number.

"I wouldn't close up that box quite yet," she warned him.

Hope raised her phone, pacing between the stacks of books as she listened over the line.

"_Guten Abend_," a woman came on, "you've reached the American School of Berlin. Whom may I connect you with this evening?"

"The history teacher, for the lower school - please."

"Of course. One moment_, bitte._"

As gentle hold music floated over the line Elijah wondered what possible reason his niece could have for calling an elementary school on the other side of the world.

Her dramatic deviousness reminded him of her father.

"Care to share your plan?" he politely demanded. "I find myself rather eager - if not anxious - to know."

"You should be," Hope only half-joked. "I'm not supposed to be doing this but I have no choice, Elijah - you forced my hand with all these books."

"These books?" he stared baffled. "Hope, what are you -"

"Shh," she hushed him, hearing the call ring through. "I think it's connecting."

She smugly handed him the phone.

"Here. Try not to mess it up this time."

Elijah had no confidence he wouldn't. He had no idea what to even expect.

For a moment he just listened to it ring.

And ring.

And ring.

And then _-_

"This is Leah St. Ann. How can I help you?"


	72. Ex Libris (3)

Her familiar voice came down the line again.

"Hello? Is someone there? This is Leah."

But Elijah just stared at the phone like it had grown legs - and Hope just stared at him and sighed.

"Say something to her!" she whispered excitedly, but poor Elijah was struggling to do even that: one million words in the English language and each and every one of them had flown out of his head. When he finally managed to string some together...well, it was a start.

"Leah - it's...it's me."

"...Elijah?"

It got really quiet. Really fast.

That was Hope's cue to leave; she retreated to give them some privacy, but only just. From the hall she could hear both sides of the conversation, and shamelessly she took out her writer's notebook to plot her new happy ending.

Leah's tone, however, sounded nothing close to happy.

"Why am I even surprised?" she sighed. "How did you find me?"

"I did not. This conversation is solely the contrivance of one Hope Mikaelson."

"You mean my traitorous best friend? I made her _swear_ not to give you my number..."

"Technically, she did not," he defended her. "It appears even the sacred code of friendship has its loopholes."

"Don't mention that word to me, Elijah. It was jumping through loopholes and a bunch of shady magic that got me killed -"

"And brought you back to me."

"I'd rather not talk about what you did..."

"I was protecting you."

"And I was protecting myself - by leaving. I needed the space, Elijah."

"And did you find it?" he may have sounded bitter.

"Is that what you called to ask?" she definitely did.

"I didn't call you."

"Then feel free to hang up."

Out in the hallway Hope cringed; this call wasn't going quite like she had planned. However apparently Leah wasn't too pleased with how it was going either; she tried to start the conversation over, taking a deep breath and softening her voice.

"Are you calling about the book?" she asked him evenly.

"I didn't realize you were aware of its production."

"Hope sought me out; filled me in. It's not everyday your best friend asks permission to kill you off - for good."

"I believe the intention was to make a point about the state of our relationship."

"Rather heavy-handed of the author..."

"My thoughts exactly. Then again, what is it they say? Art imitates life -"

"And life imitates art. The question is: which is the case when it comes to us?"

"Perhaps that is still to be decided," he admitted.

It grew quiet again between them.

"I missed you," Leah confessed, dropping her voice to a whisper. If Elijah listened closely he thought he heard it shake, but she kept on talking, more quickly now, with more confidence, not allowing him a chance to slip in how much he had missed her too.

"I'm really glad you called, Elijah - or that Hope called for you. I don't care; I can't stay mad at her when her nature compels her to do stupid, impulsive things - she's a hopeless romantic."

"And frightfully persistent. And here I was believing myself far too dignified to ever be set up in such a manner."

"Well, I'm happy she did - I guess. Maybe. I don't know, it's just - nice - hearing your voice again," she found herself confessing. "I hadn't realized how long it's actually been since we last talked."

"I had. It's almost November again - a year since Hope's wedding."

"That barely counts," she sounded regretful. "I must have said five words to you that whole weekend and one was your name and another was 'goodbye."

"And the other three? Are they still true?"

There was hesitation on Leah's end.

"I...I think I have to go -"

"Leah, don't. Please - at least let me say what I wanted to that weekend."

"I know what you wanted to say. Elijah - I _always _know what you want to say. Why do you think I was avoiding you the entire wedding? I just wasn't ready to hear it. I still don't know if I am. I...I still don't know what we are."

Elijah had no answer either. When it came to him and Leah the dictionary of their relationship had never been very clear when it came to defining exactly what they were - in the past, right now; in the inevitable days to come...

"I'm sorry," she said reluctant. "I really do have to go. Our immersion program's just letting out and parents will be here soon."

"And during the day - you teach history?"

"It was something I wanted to do in life."

"I know," he smiled, proud. "Leah, that's fantastic. I am happy for you. The children must love you."

"What can I say? I've always loved them. Look, I'm sorry. I need to go; they're going to need me soon. But, Elijah, I -"

The pause was palpable; it sounded like whatever Leah was going to say had gotten stuck in her throat. A million emotions hung on the end of her sentence and Elijah held his breath to see which one she would put into words.

But like a message on an answering machine she said the same thing as before:

"Never mind. Good...goodbye."

She had hung up before he could work the meaning behind the little tremble in her voice, but it was evidence enough that he had disturbed whatever peace she had been able to find on the opposite side of the world. The revelation made him lower the phone in acceptance; the realization that he could do no more for Leah but cause her distress made him certain he was doing the right thing.

Looking up Elijah saw Hope standing silent in the doorway. Then he handed back her phone and returned to packing boxes.


	73. Ex Libris (4)

Elijah. His name made Leah's heart ache with a sweetness she had missed. But he had ambushed her over the telephone and she hadn't been prepared to hear his voice. Her hands were actually trembling; they struggled to support her as she steadied herself against the wall. She had taken his call in her empty classroom, which was good, because anyone who had seen her would have worried she was sick.

He had found her after all this time like she always knew he would and yet after a year of being certain she was doing the right thing three minutes on the phone had set her right back where she'd started. Three minutes and she knew it was too soon to confront these feelings; three minutes and she once again felt herself in free fall over Elijah.

Leah realized she was in trouble because she couldn't stop picturing his face - that little frown of slight confusion, those narrowed eyes that searched through her soul. The slightest hint of a smile when he'd said "I am happy for you."

Which had caused her to smile back, despite her better judgment, but of course he hadn't seen. Nor had he heard her scoff inwardly at her naive belief that she could get over him simply by being far enough away. But three minutes was all it had taken to remind Leah that she was in love – that after everything it was undeniable, even after the fights, the goodbyes, and the tears.

An almost terrifying thought suddenly crossed her mind – what if Elijah called back? Would she panic like always and say things she didn't mean? It was a wonder she had managed to talk to him at all. But she'd done well, stayed calm - she didn't even cry – well, didn't cry only because she hadn't really told him, not about the nightmares that had only gotten worse, dreams of things she had seen and things she had done and that dark place she had slept in.

_"I was protecting you," _he had said on the phone_. _

_"I kept you safe while you were sleeping."_

Except people who are just sleeping wake up in beds not fancy coffins. No, everyone had been certain she was dead and not coming back. It was only Sankar who believed her body just needed to recover, that she needed some time to rest and rehabilitate from the spell that had severed her from Mikael.

Apparently experimental magic had its share of unknown side effects.

So the witch had spelled her casket not to open until she stirred and promised Elijah he would be the first to know if in a year - or a century - she was likely to wake. And Elijah had been there when she opened her eyes, stiff and confused and starving for more than blood.

_"__What happened?"_

_The first question out of her mouth and he already felt lost. _

_He didn't know where to begin. _

_"__Leah, look at me," he begged her calmly, but the struggle was all over his face._

_She realized why he hesitated. There was no simple or pleasant response. _

_"How long was I in there?" she tried again. _

_"One year, ten months - " _

_"Two years!?" _

_Of her life - gone - and the panic had set in. _

_She was shouting in denial,_ _"No, that can't be, Elijah. You're wrong."_

But when he tried to explain she'd stopped listening and went searching for proof on her own. But he had trailed her through their house, patient as always, pleading for her to let him in, to let him help, to _listen. _Yet with every door she slammed in his face she tried to block him out, to lock him out in the same way it felt he had locked her away.

_"__I could have never woken up and you would have kept me in a box forever!"_

_"There was a chance and I took it - "_

_"What chance? That I'd come back and still want to be with you?"_

_Then a pause in their fighting as Elijah went quiet, as he struggled __to tell her the truth._

_"T__here was the possibility you would wake up human again, Leah, and that was the chance I took - for you."_

Human, stripped of magic, free from everything he knew she'd never wanted. If it hurt for Elijah to tell her then it hurt all the more to hear. So she had punished him for saying anything at all and forced him to watch the hope fade from her eyes, pushed him away with an anger she hadn't known she was capable of - and all because the world had never been fair.

And when his only response was to love her even more she'd been cruel with her words and viciously rejected him, then done her worst and dissolved into tears without letting him close enough to hold her. Now Leah's hands had stopped shaking but she only felt worse - life may have taken much from her but she had lost Elijah all on her own.

But had she really lost him? He had after all called. Okay, Hope had done the dialing, but he had taken the time to talk - with only patience, and understanding, and undoubtedly some love. She itched to call him back, but again what could she say? She wasn't capable of being with him, of giving him what he wanted - not when she was like this. Not yet.

So when the dismissal bell rang Leah made her decision. It was time for her students to go home and time for her to do the same. Home - to New Orleans, to the hometown that had taken so much from her. To the city she had never been able to forgive. If there was any hope of regaining some sanity, of ever feeling normal again – and if there was even the slightest chance she could be with Elijah - then there were some ghosts, a thousand miles away, she first had to lay to rest.


	74. Ex Libris (5)

'Twas the night before Christmas and the children of Holy Cross scurried like mice to decorate their home for the annual holiday party. While those old enough to man the ovens were busy preparing a feast of desserts, the little ones had set up shop in the living room under the tree. As they cut out snowflakes and strung popcorn into rope they filled the room with music, singly merrily along to the old piano in the corner.

Leading the chorus, Elijah's hands glided across the ivory keys as he trilled along to their carols; every time he finished a song the children would beg for another. When they finally decided to give him a break he rose from the bench to applause.

"Very nice, Mr. Mikaelson," said Sister Mary. "Your talents do not fail to impress."

"I was simply accompanying," he admitted humbly. "It is your youth choir which continues to delight and amaze. I look forward to informing the Board of Trustees about the wonderful achievements of your music program."

"Let them know as well that their continued support remains greatly appreciated. We here at Holy Cross are very fortunate that Mayor Thompson has secured our funding through his tenure but you never know when the State will have to make some unfortunate cuts. Oh, but goodness, let me not bore you with such dreadful business. I certainly did not invite you here to talk about our budget."

"Nor I presume to judge my potential as a pianist," he quipped.

"It is not up to me to pass judgment," she reiterated, growing solemn. "It is simply my job to assess. You of course must understand the extra precautions which I felt were necessary before I officially accepted your application."

"Yet despite those reservations, I hope I have gained your trust."

She looked at him over her glasses with an invasive, inquisitorial squint.

"We shall see," she said cryptically, turning her attention toward the door. "Ah, my dear girl, be careful..."

But after years as a waitress Rachel St. Ann was an expert at balancing trays.

"No, no. I've got it, Sister. Though I could use a little more space..."

Elijah was happy to oblige and carefully shifted several platters of cookies on the table to make room for yet another.

"May I help in any other way?"

"Oh, no, thanks I've got this," Rachel laughed, shifting plates. "Hopefully these are the last - for a while at least. As you can see Christmas Eve at Holy Cross is quite the production."

"Then I feel honored to have been invited to the show," Elijah smiled.

He said that sincerely, making sure Sister Mary understood his gratitude.

"Mr. Mikaelson," she addressed him warmly, "if you'll excuse me. I hope you don't mind if I must leave you for a bit. Perhaps when I return we can wander up to my office and see about that paperwork."

She smiled at him before leaving and Elijah courteously nodded back. He hoped that meant he had passed her test.

Sensing he was too much in his head, Rachel shoved a cookie in his hand and tried to get him to relax.

"I know it's not official quite yet but you've got this, Elijah. Eat, drink and be merry - you can stop worrying now."

"I don't think I shall ever stop worrying given what's about to happen."

"You'll do great - without a doubt. Wrote those exact words in my recommendation to Sister Mary."

"Which I owe you a tremendous favor for writing on my behalf, Rachel."

"Oh stop - you don't owe me anything! It was the least I could do for you after all you've done for me. You inspired me get out of that dog pen of a town. Now I'm back in school and working here and making something of myself. You just promise me you'll show – _hold it, little sir!"_

Rachel suddenly swooped down to gather up a racing, wayward toddler.

"Adam! Now what have I told you about running with candy canes in your mouth? And what does a little boy like you need so many for? Remember Jesus said to _share._.."

She pried the peppermint sticks from the boy's tiny fingers, tousling his hair before sending him scampering on his way.

"You want one?" she offered a cane to Elijah, peeling another for herself.

He politely refused, indicating his untouched cookie.

"Well, some advice then perhaps. They're not always this much trouble. It's the sugar that turns children into terrors. Which reminds me, I better get them settled before their secret Santa arrives and the chaos _truly_ begins..."

She started off but Elijah begged for one more moment of her time.

"Earlier... you were saying?" he asked warily. "About a promise?"

"Oh, _that_," she laughed, realizing he was actually worried. "Relax, it's an easy one to keep, especially for you, Mr. World Traveler. If you want to thank me for my help all you gotta do is promise me you'll show Faith there's a life outside of New Orleans. That little girl's got bigger dreams than this city and unlike me she's gonna have a chance to make them all come true. Nothing will be impossible for her when you're her dad."

Plopping a candy cane in her mouth, Rachel pranced off, leaving Elijah standing there with a sugar cookie and an even sweeter grin. Though not used to doing things the slow and legal way, he had done all his research and completed all the steps - as soon as he and Sister Mary signed the papers the adoption would officially begin.

He was going to be a father.

And while it hurt, just a little, that he was starting his family without Leah, he was being bold and giving love a chance - a different type of love, a love he knew he would never give up on: the love of a parent for their child.

Faith was going to be family - his family - the girl who had taken his hand and never let go.

When she burst into the room he felt his heart skip a beat; it was such a rare sort of happiness whenever he saw her that he still wasn't used to the shock. She was dressed in a festive fir green dress and someone had tied up her hair in red ribbon - and when she smiled it was brighter than the star atop the tree.

She didn't notice him at first, calling loudly for her friends to hurry up and gather 'round as she held the door open excitedly.

"Hey everyone!" Faith shouted in glee. "She's here!"

Finally catching sight of him, she waved Elijah over as well. He found it hard however to make any headway through the stream of children now rushing by him. From all corners of the room they clambered forward cheering, ignoring Rachel and the other aides who tried to shepherd them into a line.

When she came through the door he realized who the woman was they had been waiting for.

The children's eyes grew wide when they saw the bag of presents she carried but Elijah's eyes were drawn only to her own - blue, like the winter sky outside, but warm like the soft twinkling of a star. When he saw her his heart stopped beating altogether; the frozen air of the arctic could not have taken away his breath so fast.

Because even with her ribbon-plaited hair and jingle bell hat, Leah St. Ann looked beautiful.


	75. Ex Libris (6)

The children swarmed, engulfing Leah eagerly to see what she had brought them.

"No pushing," she laughed. "And I first want to see a line!"

She set down her bag and opened it wide, kneeling to retrieve the first box.

"Now when I hand you your present - no peeking! Put it straight under the tree, okay?"

"Yes, Miss Leah!" the children sang, inching forward as she started calling names.

From his spot across the room Elijah watched enthralled, standing silently and soaking in everything about her - how happy she looked, how genuinely she glowed - as she interacted excitedly with every one of the children. It was such a perfect scene he was afraid to speak and ruin it. For now he was content to observe and wait for Leah to finally notice him.

Then again what would happen when she did? The thought made him nearly lose his confidence. Retreating a few steps, he set his cookie on the table, no longer in any mood to eat. He was nervous, worried what Leah would think when she realized he was there. Only a month ago he had called her unexpectedly and now here he was standing in her childhood home.

But if he was too much in his head there was Rachel to get him out. At the other end of the table she gave him a little smile, the sort that said she had known all along but was enjoying his surprise seeing Leah. He really hadn't known she would be at Holy Cross; if he had ever thought Leah would come back to New Orleans, he had certainly never imagined they would both be here tonight.

It was serendipity, or something sweeter. Anything was possible if the fates allow.

Child by child he watched Leah empty her bag, completely caught up in the holiday sprit. She was playful, she was open - he had forgotten how wonderfully she laughed. She seemed someone else entirely from that girl who had cut herself off. But then again this had been her home; this was where she had always felt safe. Maybe someday in the future she would feel safe with him again, and then together they could build a home with Faith.

Though just when he started to get lost in the dream Leah stood up and broke the spell.

She was looking directly at him. The rush of children had scattered and a space had opened between them. Through it she stepped forward, cautiously, dragging her bag at her feet. As surprised as she must have been she looked even more suspicious, wondering, with good reason, if this was some sort of trap.

"Elijah? Wh- what are you doing here?"

That was the nice way of asking; the question in her head had more bite. Despite the fact she was dishing out surprises she wasn't much a fan of them herself, not when they came bundled as Elijah Mikaelson, appearing in her life like the ghost of Christmas Past.

"And not just in New Orleans, I mean _here_ \- at Holy Cross," she added.

"Believe it or not," he began to explain, "I am visiting -"

"Visiting? On Christmas Eve?"

"At Sister Mary's invitation."

"Is that so?"

Her voice rose in doubt and her eyes narrowed; even Sister Mary hadn't scrutinized him so. She looked him up and down, her eyes softening as she did, as if she realized he was here at that was really all that mattered.

"Well, whatever the reason, I'm happy you're here."

"As am I," he smiled, though she didn't smile back.

The bells of Leah's hat gave a little shake as she looked wistful off toward the tree.

"I'm back," she started slowly, "from Germany, just for a bit. Partly because I need to make peace with this city."

He was probably imagining the longing in her tone but it was enough to lift his hopes that she had also returned for him.

"And partly because I've decided - it's time I make peace with you."

She fixed him with her eyes again and it felt like an arrow through the heart; that was certainly not the declaration of love he'd been foolishly expecting. Elijah swallowed down his disappointment but was unable to look away. He only broke their connection when he heard Faith's urgent little squeal.

"Miss Leah, Miss Leah!" she ran up in a huff. "I was helping in the kitchen - is there anything left for me?"

Leah's whole demeanor changed as she lowered herself down on one knee.

"Of course I didn't forget you," she laughed, digging through her bag.

Faith gasped as she was handed her present.

"What is it?" she shook the box. "Can I open it now and see?"

"Oh no, missy. That's not how it works. For now it goes under the tree."

"But what do we say first?" Elijah prompted Faith gently.

"Thank you, Miss Leah! You're the best!"

She giggled, clutching her gift as she raced off to join her friends.

Leah turned to Elijah in amazement as she watched Faith bound across the room.

"Since when are you the child whisperer?"

"In a thousand years you learn things."

"Well, I got her an e-reader - think she'll like it? Sister Mary says she loves to read."

"A precocious girl like Faith? I think she'll love it," he said fondly.

Leah looked over smiling and this time it was just for him. However deflated his heart had been it now soared, and apparently he wasn't the only one who felt there was still something between them.

The entire room had gone quiet.

Which was never a good sign when children were around.

One of the boys started snickering. Even Faith had a mischievous grin.

"Look up," she pointed above them. "You're standing under the mistletoe!"

"Mistletoe! Mistletoe!" all the children chanted.

Elijah looked to Rachel but she was shamelessly chanting as well.

"Kiss! Kiss! You two have to kiss!"

Leah looked to Elijah resigned; a hybrid and an Original compelled by some kids. He was hesitant and her heart was pounding but together they dove in feet first. He leaned in to touch her lips tentatively but right away she was kissing him back.

Squeals, giggles, a round of applause - not that Leah or Elijah even noticed; they were still too wrapped up in each other.

It took a higher power to break them apart.

"Are we enjoying the festivities, Mr. Mikaelson?"

"Sister Mary!"

Leah brushed her fingers over her lips as Elijah scrambled to collect himself.

"Miss St. Ann is a friend," he said, hoping he might save face. "An old friend. We were just... catching up."

"I see that," she said amused, moving her eyes between them. "Well, whenever you are done - catching up - I'd be happy to see you in my office."

She disappeared from the room leaving Leah a little guilty.

"Right, I should, uh... probably give out the rest of these presents..."

"And I shouldn't keep her waiting..."

"But you're planning to stay for the rest of the party?"

"Regrettably I am due to entertain Hayley and Niklaus."

"Oh," Leah said, clearly disappointed. "Of course you'd be with family for Christmas."

"I am however not staying with them," he emphasized. "And after dinner my evening is free."

"Ah," she caught his meaning. "Then maybe we could meet up later? Just to talk."

"Just to talk," Elijah nodded. "I would like that very much."


	76. Ex Libris (7)

A large winter moon hung high in the sky by the time Elijah settled into his room. He had intended to return much sooner but Christmas Eve dinner had been a lengthy campaign. Between adopting Faith and kissing Leah his attention hadn't exactly been on the conversation - or the goose. Still, he had shoveled it all down, if only to avoid having to answer his brother's questions.

Now he was back in his hotel but he couldn't say his thoughts were any clearer. The biggest question on his mind was whether Leah was still coming. The answer came soon in a series of sharp knocks; they made his heart skip excitedly as he rushed across the room. When he reached the door however, his hand hesitated on the knob; the anticipation he felt for what Leah might say was worse than the wait had been for her to come by and say it.

So clearing his mind and guarding his heart, Elijah opened the door.

"Hi," she was standing there. "I hope it's not too late?"

"Not at all," he welcomed her, stepping aside. "I am glad you were able to come."

She passed through the doorway, under his gaze, smelling like vanilla and peppermint.

"These cookies are from Rachel," she handed him a box. "All yours – please, I ate like a million."

He received them with one hand and her scarf with the other, setting them both down on the credenza by the door.

"A drink?" he offered.

"Sure," Leah accepted, unbuttoning her coat. She decided to keep it on though; she wasn't planning to stay long.

She sank into the armchair that was closest to the door.

"So…how was dinner?" she started casually as Elijah fixed their drinks.

"Charming – if not challenging. Niklaus wanted to play charades."

"Please tell me you did," she took her drink from him.

"I purposely lost quickly," Elijah grinned, catching a glimpse of her smile as she hid it behind her glass.

"I'd rather have stayed at the party," he confessed.

"I know the children would have liked that. I... think I would have liked that too."

Leah downed the rest of her liquor for courage. Sensing she needed it Elijah decided to bring her the whole bottle.

"Did you really see the Aurora Borealis," she asked anxiously, "- like in the draft of Hope's novel?"

"Now I understand why people write songs about such things."

"And was everything else Hope wrote true as well? 'Cause in that diner chapter you had a journal that Rachel read from, and you wrote all those sad things - about me."

Elijah's hand paused over the bottle as she forced him to remember those dark months.

"The journal is real," he gripped the neck tightly. "Every word you read was the truth."

He turned around and stared with sad longing. Leah leaned back in her chair and hung her head in shame.

"I thought those entries were Hope's imagination. I never knew until I read her book just how much you loved me…and after I was gone –"

" - how I _still_ loved you. How I mourned you... everyday."

Elijah's heart constricted as he remembered all those months believing she was dead. Leah might have thought she was reading fiction, but the truth was always more terrible - and more beautiful - than anything you could read in a book.

The truth was sitting in front of him now.

He crossed the room and motioned to refill her glass.

"Thanks," Leah murmured. "For everything, Elijah. I never really thanked you for keeping me safe after Mikael."

He took the seat across from her, patient as she found her words.

"I didn't realize – understand – how you grieved for me when I was gone - and then when I came back I only gave you more grief..."

"Leah – "

"No, let me finish. I've come a long way, Elijah, to tell you I'm sorry. Nothing gave me the right to run out on your kindness, or take advantage of your patience, or underestimate your love. If there's - _anyway_ \- you can forgive me..."

It wasn't even a question. Elijah set aside the bottle and leaned in to cup her face.

"My darling Leah, don't you realize?"

"What?"

"You're already forgiven."

He brushed his thumb across her cheek and Leah did her best not to kiss him; until she saw the emotion in his eyes she had been holding herself together. But his dark eyes were now whirlpools of promises, of declarations and desires and dreams, and they pulled her in faster than she had the strength to resist, whispering to her heart louder and louder how much he intimately and utterly needed her.

She couldn't - not yet; she wasn't ready to be his other half, not when she still didn't feel completely whole on her own. So although she let his lips place a kiss upon her forehead, in the end Leah shook her head and pulled herself away.

"Elijah, I - I'm still working through some things... I - I should go."

She moved faster than he could protest, jumping up to retrieve her scarf from the credenza by the door.

Yet something caught her eye and gave her pause as she went to grab it. Leah ran her fingers over the lettering at the top of the form.

"Application to adopt? Elijah – who's this for?"

He rose, hesitant, from his seat. He had meant to put that paperwork away.

"Those are mine – actually – and the reason I met with Sister Mary," he revealed, apprehensively waiting for her reaction. "However, nothing is final yet. They still have to be submitted to the state."

It took her a moment to catch up with what he said.

"But who are you -?" Leah gasped excited. "Faith – of course! Oh, that makes so much sense now. She was so taken with you, I should have known - Elijah, she's just the sweetest girl."

For the first time since the party he saw her eyes genuinely glowing, and his did too - all warm with happiness. In that moment Leah and Elijah had never been closer to everything they ever wanted.

But the moment passed quickly and Leah opened the door to leave.

"Congratulations," she said, a tinge of sadness in her voice. "I'm… happy - for you. And for Faith. You'll be a family."

"Let me walk you back," he offered, joining her in the doorway.

"It's late. You're in. Don't worry about it. You, _Mr. Dad_, should be worrying about dance lessons and play dates and...raising a daughter."

"Any advice?" he gazed at Leah fondly, imagining her by his side as they planned out Faith's future.

"Think of your brother. Think of Mikael. Then all you have to do is the opposite."

Leah knotted her scarf around her neck then moved to hug Elijah goodbye. But once her arms were around him it was impossible to stop there. On the balls of her feet she sprang forward and kissed him, surprising herself - surprising him more. She felt his soft hair as her fingers pulled through it; felt a shiver of delight as it shot up her spine. But when she felt Elijah deepening the kiss, she finally felt that it was time to go.

"Merry Christmas," she backed away, stepping through the door.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered - to himself, watching her walk away.


	77. Ex Libris (8)

Elijah settled in front of the window as he finished out the call with his sister.

"And how are the girls, Rebekah?"

"Absolute harlots and worse - lazy! They're too busy eyeing customers to pour them their bloody drinks!"

"I meant your _daughters_, sister, not the ladies you employ."

"Oh. The twins? Complete angels. Really, they grow up so fast. I swear it was only yesterday Philippe and I had our hands full with wailing infants and now they're babbling on and on..."

Elijah hummed proudly but was only half-listening. Distracted by the noise in the street he shifted the curtain aside to peer down at the celebration. His thoughts began to drift away from the conversation but Rebekah didn't seem to notice; she could chat happily for hours on end about the two little girls she had adopted with her husband.

But of course the conversation took a sudden turn toward him.

"And then our _brother _rang to wish a Happy New Year and complain of all things about you. Apparently you've been a Scrooge this Christmas."

"Principled and well-tailored?"

"A boring and solitary _grump_. Don't tell me you've holed yourself up in that hotel all week."

He came away from the window chuckling.

"I assure you, dear sister. Not_ all_ week."

"I'm serious, Elijah. It's New Year's – go out and do something for bloody sake. Isn't Hayley throwing that party?"

"Werewolves and watery cocktails? I'll pass."

"_Go_, brother, and enjoy yourself - and do yourself another favor: stop brooding on Leah. I know you are – you've been dodgy and aloof for weeks. Whatever you do tonight don't even _think _about calling her again."

"I would do well not to kiss her again either."

_"__You did what?"_

Elijah ground the heel of his palm to his temple – tired.

"I'll go," he surrendered, "…and will consider your other advice as well."

"I hope you do. You know how I worry about you. Ah - Philippe's calling; I have to go. Promise me you'll do one thing tonight that makes you happy. Bye, brother. We'll see you next week."

"Until then give the girls my love – and Happy New Year, my dear Rebekah."

\

Well, at least the cocktails were stronger than expected.

Still, Elijah had experienced enough of the party - and its guests. Hayley had invited the entirety of the reunited Crescent pack which meant twice as many wolves gallivanting around the Compound drunk. With her playing host and his brother hiding the good liquor, he found his opening to leave without a fuss. If Hope and Aidan were here he might have stayed until midnight, but they were on a cruise and he was already dreading the walk back through the overcrowded streets.

Soon enough he had said his goodbyes and began to brave the return to his hotel; it was like wading upstream through a river. In no time at all Elijah felt someone bump into him hard.

"Oops, sorry!" she spun around, breaking off from a giggling group of girls.

"Leah?" he said startled.

"Oh, no way! Hey stranger – Happy New Year!"

She motioned for her friends to wait up a moment before whirling to greet him excitedly. Elijah couldn't believe how happy Leah looked with glitter in her hair and her cheeks flushed from dancing in the streets.

"You okay?" she laughed, catching him staring. "You look a little flustered."

"I was attempting to return to my hotel..."

"But it looks like you got caught up in the chaos. Yeah, New Year's Eve can get a little crazy."

Waving goodbye to her friends – and ignoring their winks - Leah took Elijah's hand.

"Come on, I'll get you safely back to your doorstep."

She gave his hand a little squeeze, lacing their fingers tightly.

"So we don't get separated," she smiled, then pulled him gently along.

He took a moment to appreciate how natural her hand felt in his as they began walking.

"Talk about crazy - I can't believe I ran into you, Elijah. How's your New Year's been so far?"

"Uneventful. Quiet -"

"Boring? If you're calling it a night this early it must not have been very fun."

"Let it be known I _did_ indeed attend at a celebration - however briefly. It was simply not my idea of an enjoyable evening."

"Such an old man," she shook her head laughing.

"Oh, am I?"

"You've become one. The Elijah I remembered knew how to entertain himself all night no problem."

She flashed him a flirty little smile as they turned onto a quieter street.

"Do I seem different to you?" she said offhand. "Or do you just really like my dress?"

Elijah grinned sheepishly, not realizing he had been staring at her again. It was hard not to when her dress shimmered against her body with every step she took.

"I was simply noting that you seem…lighter," he clarified pleasantly, " - in spirit."

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. I think coming back to New Orleans was good for my soul. I've been spending the week visiting old stomping grounds: Holy Cross, the Quarter, campus – the cemetery."

"On your own?" he sounded worried.

"Why not?" she assured him. "It's just like any other old tourist attraction now that the witches have lost all their power. Lots of things aren't scary when you see them in the light. The cemetery's actually a really beautiful place - to visit - to walk around and think."

He was so focused on wondering what Leah had been thinking about that Elijah didn't realize why she had stopped.

"We're here...if I'm remembering your hotel correctly."

"My northern star," he kissed her hand. "Thank you for guiding me home."

"Don't thank me yet," she warned him teasingly. "I said I would deliver you to your doorstep and I meant it."

Inviting herself upstairs, Leah led the way to his floor. He followed, reading the signs of her body as she walked him through the lobby with a shimmy of her hips, gifting him a coquettish smile when she caught him staring again as they rode up in the lift.

"So you _do_ like my dress," she sighed coyly.

"And yet as much I as do -"

"You might just like me better without it."

The elevator opened suddenly and she walked out first, leaving Elijah alone to loosen his tie and acknowledge where all this banter was heading. This was not going to be anything like the last time she had visited; if Rebekah had scolded him for simply kissing Leah then after tonight he was going to be disowned.

He caught up with her quickly, snaking his hand around her waist and guiding her down the hall. They reached his doorstep just as the clock chimed in the new year. Needing no more excuse, Elijah spun Leah around and leaned down to kiss her passionately. She gasped softly across his lips, startled by his hands as they pulled her forward against him.

There was a single second of hesitation before all doubt was replaced with desire - then she backed him into the door with the force of her kiss and he fumbled to jam the key in the lock.

Drawing her inside, he kicked the door closed.

Crystal rattled loudly as he hoisted Leah onto the bar, her hands never leaving his body as she eased off his jacket and let it fall with his tie to the floor. They started off slowly, nothing like their last time; from her knees his hands traced up her body and lingered on those places he still remembered made her squirm.

"When are you leaving?" he hummed gruffly in her ear.

"Tomorrow - I mean _today, _but don't - _don't..._"

She flustered, losing her train of thought as he distracted her with his hands.

"...don't try to change my mind because - _oh, God...because -" _

Whatever she'd been saying was drowned out with her own moans; Elijah's smile grew wicked as he slid his hand back down her thigh. Wasting no more time, he tore the sleeve away from her dress and exposed her pale shoulder to his kisses.

The whine he drew from her was the most beautifully undignified sound he'd ever heard. By the time Leah's dress sparkled in ribbons around her bare body she was begging him to move them to the bed. For every year they'd been apart he made it up with due attention, letting her hands direct him and guide him wherever she had missed him most.

In the end, they had absolutely no problem entertaining themselves.

It was hours later into the New Year when Leah finally collapsed in sated exhaustion across his chest. Holding her close and stroking her hair, he brushed it aside to gaze upon her glowing face. He wanted to memorize what she looked like in this moment, in case he awoke in the morning and she was no longer there. If Leah wanted to leave, he would let her; whatever they had was fragile, but now he knew it had life.

But when he whispered her name she was already asleep, having waited to find peace until at last again in his arms.


	78. Ex Libris (9)

**Hello, dear readers! We're coming to the end. Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing - there's one more chapter after this and I'm excited (and a little sad) to finally bring nearly two years worth of work to a well-earned conclusion. I started writing this story in August 2014 and would never have gotten this far without my two dedicated betas and you guys cheering me on every step of the way. Thank you and much love - now here we go! **

**Six months later.**

_When H__annah_ _and her family are forced to flee cross country after an unexpected birthday surprise, her fairytale life becomes a dangerous reality. Meanwhile, provoked by past tensions a__nd a very present threat, Ethan_ _must reconsider __his relationships with both Laura_ _and his family, learning the love that keeps you together can just as easily tear you apart._

Leah read the summary on the back of Hope's novel. Talk about surreal - her life was now the plot of a _New York Times_ bestseller. She had already read the manuscript but apparently the final version had a brand new ending. Perhaps that's what everyone was chattering on about around her.

Setting down her copy Leah sighed, bored. She had been left to her own devices in a room full of strangers after Hope had been whisked away to sign books and shake hands. While not usually inept at making friends, this was unfortunately one of those intellectual parties where everyone looked pretentious and just a little bit mean.

In fact the invitation had said 'black tie optional' and even after years with Elijah Leah still had to Google what that meant. Yet here she was now in a dusty rose dress with a low neckline and very high price tag. She had even let Hope do something ridiculous to her hair and though yes – it looked amazing– it was sticking to her neck in this heat.

There were just too many people in one room.

It was quite possible anyone who was anyone in the world of publishing was here; Hope's dragon-harpy editor had made sure of it. Leah couldn't take two steps without finding herself in the middle of some chatty group of literary critics.

"Have you read the review in the _Times_? 5 stars - they _lauded _it!"

"A bit generous if you ask me…"

"Well, I heard the book's based on a true story, about this family here in New Orleans..."

"That's obviously just a marketing ploy, Janice. No family is _that_ dysfunctional –"

Leah snorted so loud they all turned.

"And you are?"

"Uh, I'm…Leah," she shook his hand firmly. "Leah St. Ann."

"Any relation to _Laura St. James_?" he joked, referring to her literary doppleganger.

"Only if you squint," Leah smiled. "Did I just hear you talking about the book…?"

"We were just saying how it's a shame none of it really happened."

"Because it's a book about vampires?"

"He means it's a shame that love like Laura and Ethan's isn't real - it's all fiction."

"Well, I think you can still love without being in a love story," she spoke up. "In fact, I bet if you were able to ask Laura and Ethan they would tell you there was nothing romantic about what they went through. But even if none of it really happened, even if it was all made up, does that make what you felt when you read it less real?"

"Ooh, _that's good,"_ Janice purred. "Mind if I steal that for my review?"

Her fellow critics broke into twittering laughter but Leah just smiled politely and excused herself. All around her everyone was missing the point – the book wasn't romantic or dramatic or inspiring – it was just what happened. Not that anyone who didn't know the Mikaelsons personally knew that.

She started to circulate but everywhere she stepped people were talking just like this:

"And do you remember the part where Laura and Ethan got in that fight?"

"Which one? They fought like the whole book!"

"Ugh, and then she died and I had to call out of work I was crying so hard."

"No way - I'm so glad she died and stayed dead."

"Yeah, Laura was so annoying. A total basket case."

"Agreed – Ethan Mitchelson deserved _so_ much better."

"If I may offer my opinion," a new voice entered the discussion. "Perhaps it was Laura who deserved better than Ethan – he was, after all, frequently impatient with her – short with her – dismissive of her. And furthermore, perhaps the character you so charmingly refer to as a 'basket case' is instead the perfect representation of a strong, beautiful, and complex young woman and not the damsel-in-distress you expected her to be."

"An interesting perspective," the reviewer grumbled dismissively. "Are you with the _Post_? I'm sorry, your name is...?"

"Not important, like your trivial literary insights - which of course are your prerogative. A word of warning, however - I have heard a _very _reliable rumor that the actual Mitchelsons are here tonight in this very room..."

He grinned at the group until it came off vaguely threatening and they scattered.

"You didn't need to do that," Leah joined him unamused.

"Do what?" Elijah hummed innocently, linking their arms with a chuckle.

They made an elegant couple as they cut through the crowd. Perhaps he'd get someone to take their picture so he could bring it back and show Faith. She was being entertained for the evening by his brother who, although of course proud of Hope, would rather not be tempted to compel the entire party to give his daughter raving reviews and had wisely decided to stay home.

You might therefore imagine his initial concern when just outside the party Elijah had received a call from Faith, upset that she had to stay at the Compound with Uncle Nik, but only because she wanted to hang out with Miss Leah. This sentiment had of course offended Niklaus, and so twenty minutes later, after dealing with _two _tantrums, Elijah was finally able to join the party.

All he wanted to do was hang out with Miss Leah too.

"You look stunning," he grinned, leading her onto the balcony.

"Thanks - but I might actually keep this dress so don't get any ideas," Leah smirked.

They paused at the railing where it was cooler - and quieter - for a moment alone to catch up.

"I'm relieved you finally made it," she confessed. "I've been counting down the hours..."

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting. Niklaus is watching Faith and you can imagine the trouble the two of them have managed to create. I would have met you at the airport but I see you have managed nonetheless."

She gave him a soft smile when he lifted her hand gently and kissed it.

"How long do I have you for this time?"

Leah's pulse quickened when she heard the strain in his voice; it was the closest Elijah ever came to begging her to stay. Even after their reunion on New Year's she had not been ready to move back and jump into a full relationship; she still had responsibilities and he had a life with Faith.

But any break she had from teaching she would find her way to his door. And every time Elijah would welcome her in and make the most of however long before she inevitably left Boston again. She touched her moonlight bracelet and relished in the memories; he had surprised her and clasped it back around her wrist the first morning she had woken up in his bed.

No, _their_ bed - in _their_ house - where he would make her breakfast in the morning, where she'd show Faith all her books and read to her on the couch; where the neighbors still remembered her and invited them all for dinner - where without even realizing it she had created a family of her own.

And every time Elijah would ask: how long before you come _home_?

"Were you worried I wouldn't come back?" she always wondered.

His fingers played with her curls as the wind breezed through her hair.

"Every time you do I stop holding my breath. Leah, I know you have responsibilities in Germany but –"

"School's out for the summer - and I told them I won't be back in the fall."

After a thousand years of broken-hearted disappointment Elijah was wired to read her decision to leave Berlin as a choice to leave him as well - to abandon this piecewise relationship they'd been putting back together as easily as someone frustrated with a puzzle.

So when slowly lowered his hand from her face Leah wondered why he had gone quiet. She stared into his eyes, confused, just as Hope burst onto the scene.

"I _knew _you two had to be hiding around here somewhere!"

Leah pulled her eyes away from Elijah's to hug her best friend.

"Hope - I'm seriously impressed with what you've got going on here."

"It's crazy right? Sorry, I've practically abandoned you. They've got me signing books until my hands fall off. Oh, Elijah, you finally made it!"

"Congratulations," he embraced his niece. "You should be extremely proud of what you have accomplished. I am."

"Yeah, seriously," Leah nodded. "You've earned this, Hope."

"You bet I have! I had to argue for _months _with my editor before we came to some sort of compromise over the ending. I can't wait for you to read the last chapter. Full disclosure - Elijah helped me out a bit. Gave me some _really_ good ideas."

"You did?" Leah looked to him suspiciously.

"No spoilers!" Hope warned her uncle. "Anyway, I better get back to my booth. I have a stack of books to sign as tall as I am! I'll find you two lovebirds later - oh! Leah, totally forgot! Lunch? Friday? My book tour's in Boston this weekend; please tell me you're staying stateside until then..."

"Um..."

"Leah, please - you know how much I miss you. Faith too; whenever I visit she asks if I've brought you along."

"She does?"

"First thing out of her mouth: _"When's Miss Leah's coming home?'_"

Leah's heart did a backflip as she met Elijah's eyes.

"Well, I'm home now," she told them both. "And I'll be here for a while."

She was still looking at Elijah when she said it, so intensely Hope decided to give them a moment alone.

"So...," she backed away, "Friday it is. Now I'm just gonna..."

Smiling widely, she returned inside without the couple even noticing; they were too wrapped up in each other.

"You're staying?" Elijah inhaled, unable to believe it.

"And I've already shipped my stuff so you better move your extra suits out of my closet," she laughed.

Elijah's jaw went slack as he realized her meaning.

"You're moving back in?"

He said it with so much passion it made her stammer insecurely.

"Well, only if...if you still want me..."

Leah laughed nervously but he cut her off, searing her lips closed with a kiss, serious and determined to show her how much he absolutely loved her - not just then but forever as well.


	79. Ex Libris (10), or The Last Chapter

**Ten years later.**

"I know my brother _insisted_ we spend Christmas together but couldn't he have _insisted_ we spend it someplace that wasn't bloody freezing!"

Stepping out of the car and onto the curb Rebekah slammed the door closed behind her.

"How can people stand to live in this blasted city in the winter?"

"It's Boston," Philippe sighed patiently. "Not Siberia."

"It's barbaric," his wife grumbled, eager to get everyone inside and warm. "Up and out, darlings, let's not doddle in the cold. Help your father with the presents."

But the twins were already busy hurling snowballs at each other and Philippe just chuckled as he watched his daughters play. Though not Rebekah's by birth, they shared their mother's blonde hair and aversion to manual labor.

Soon a second car turned down the cobblestone street and the girls rushed forward excitedly.

"She's here!"

"Why, hello!" Hope jumped out, hugging them both. "Look how tall you two are getting! How's your mother?"

"Cold," Rebekah muttered, smiling wide. "But very happy to see you, dear."

"Philippe, my man - _ça va?_" Aidan waved, coming around from the driver's side. "Here, let me help."

He added some of Philippe's shopping bags to his own as the two men brought the presents up the front steps of the townhouse.

"We've never spent Christmas at Elijah's," Hope realized, rapping hard with the knocker. "And a white Christmas for once - so festive."

"'Festive' would entail putting a wreath on the door," Rebekah tutted. "Looks like my brother's being a grinch again this year."

"Oh, stop. I'm sure Elijah has planned something celebratory. There has to be a reason he invited us all this way."

The snow swirled around their feet as the front door suddenly opened. Their hostess appeared in the doorway; dark-haired, light-eyed and just as bright and clever, at seventeen Faith Mikaelson had grown beautifully into her own.

"Hope! Rebekah! _Les deux terribles!"_

"Merry Christmas!" they sang together.

Faith hugged each of them in turn before ushering her family inside.

"Way to go - you're right on time! And we just got the fire going."

"A working fireplace? Color me impressed," Rebekah sighed. She was only halfway joking. Her brother had always needed extra prodding to get into the holiday spirit and when he did decide to decorate he kept it conservative and demure - boring. But stepping into the foyer her eyes now took in a wealth of winter-like splendor; the garlands and baubles were delicate and classy – surprisingly tasteful given the lady of the house.

"Who's in the mood for peppermint schnapps!?"

Like she said; tasteful. Rebekah just shook her head as Leah raced down the staircase.

"I don't know who to hug first!" she laughed, of course going straight for her best friend. "Welcome, Hope. You made it!"

"Of course we made it! Neither snow nor rain nor the_ terrible_ traffic we hit was ever going to stop us."

"Merry Christmas, sis," Aidan hugged Leah next. "Nice digs."

"You like? I mean, it's not quite the mayoral estate..." she teased.

"Bah, that place was overrated. Hope and I are so glad to be out of there and in a place of our own. The high life is nice and all but there's no place like home."

"I'll second that," Rebekah swooped in next. "And yours is surprisingly cozy."

"Gee, thanks," Leah laughed. "It's good to see you again, Rebekah."

"Well, someone has to keep up with my brother's keeper. How's life, darling?"

"Ah, complicated - but you know how it is balancing a supernatural life with kids."

"I'm _seventeen,_" Faith grumbled as she dug through the presents like an overexcited child.

"Ah, ah," Leah stepped in. "Com'on. You know the drill, Faith. Straight under the tree."

"Let me help, " Aidan offered like a gentleman. "Just point me in the right direction."

Grabbing her cousins, Faith giggled and chased them down the hall into the living room.

Burdened with all the boxes, Aidan lagged some paces behind. He had just passed by the dinner room when he stopped and had to ask.

"Leah, are you hosting a coronation or something? That table set up looks super ritz."

"I was about to say," Hope added, looking around. "I love what you've done with the decorations, it's just…not your usual style. What's the occasion?"

"All will be revealed," she whispered mysteriously, taking their coats with a grin.

She was one short.

"Where did Philippe go? Is he still bringing in bags?"

Rebekah turned, confused, just as there was a pounding on the door. It opened right away, a Christmas miracle that Klaus had bothered to knock at all.

"Have no fear, my sweet sister. As always your gentle husband is safe with me."

"Ignore him," Hayley warned Hope, immediately hugging her daughter. "Your dad started drinking on the plane. Whoa…"

She had noticed the decorations this year weren't just popcorn strings and paper chains.

"I feel very underdressed…"

"Don't worry; they'll be time to change before dinner," Leah clarified. "Speaking of, Faith! We need to call the caterers…"

"Dad's on it," she rushed in. "He's on his way back from the bakery now."

"Ah, splendid!" Klaus burst in excited. "What's a wedding without a cake, eh?"

There was stunned silence in the foyer before all hell broke loose.

_"Uncle Nik!_" Faith stomped. "You weren't supposed to say anything!"

"As if they didn't know..."

"Know what?" Rebekah grilled him. "What's the secret?"

"Honestly, like I'd come all this way in the dead of winter for any other reason except _our brother_ getting married..."

"What?!" Hope squealed loudly. "Leah - is this for real?"

"Is Klaus _really_ bad at keeping secrets? Yes - and yes it's for real. Elijah and I are getting married!"

She was laughing until Hope hugged her so tight she couldn't breathe.

"Finally! But why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"We didn't want a fuss –"

"You're _eloping_?" Rebekah was scandalized.

"But we wanted everyone here -"

"Here? You're getting married _in the house_? _Tonight?_"

"Guess you can't plan them all, sister," Klaus laughed, finding all of this most amusing.

Rebekah, on the other hand, took weddings very, very seriously.

"I'm just _offended_ I wasn't given enough time to find Leah the perfect dress!"

"No, no - no fancy dress, no lavish reception - no _need,_" Leah explained. "Elijah and I will just sign some papers and that's it. Not even a ceremony."

Rebekah nearly fainted.

"_Heathens_," she muttered, tugging on Hayley's arm. "Gather the girls - to the mall! I refuse to welcome Leah to the family wearing jeans."

/

**Later that evening...**

Elijah found Faith sitting next to his brother on the sofa as she scrolled through photos on her phone.

"And he's already gotten into Harvard so he's really smart _and cute_."

Klaus did his best to sound convincing as he continued to murmur in approval of Faith's boyfriend.

"But where do _you_, sweetheart, wish to attend university? Here in the city with your gentleman friend?"

"Oh, no - I want to go to New Orleans, like Hope. And Leah."

He raised a brow in genuine approval as Elijah walked into the room.

"Hear that brother? The legacy continues."

"I'll be right back," Faith sighed, glancing at her battery. "Phone's dying."

She jumped off the sofa as Klaus rose to join his brother by the tree.

"You're looking awfully dapper for a man who's about to get married in his living room."

Elijah grinned, adjusting the sprig of baby's breath in the top pocket of his suit.

"The clerk from the city should be here soon, Niklaus."

"I appreciate you not forcing us to endure this pomp and circumstance in some church."

"It was never an option. Home is where the heart is and Leah and I decided there was no better venue than ours. We wanted the occasion to be as simple, intimate - and quiet - as possible."

"But then you invited our sister," Klaus snorted.

There was a loud scream of excitement from upstairs.

"Was that Rebekah?" Hope burst in laughing. "The cake's all set up; should I go save Leah now?"

"And tell the other's we're starting soon," Elijah added, growing restless as the time approached.

Klaus noticed his brother fretting with his cufflinks.

"I don't know why you've surrendered yourself to all this pageantry, Elijah. After ten years what's there left to prove?"

"That Leah legally has the right to be Faith's mother. She has been in my daughter's life - and mine - for years; it's time that role is made official."

"Ah, I see," Klaus smirked knowingly. "My brother - the traditionalist; going about matters the proper way and actually marrying the woman he's been f–"

_"Niklaus - "_

"I was going to say 'forever in love with,'" he chuckled. "But congratulations, nonetheless. Now point me to the bloody bar."

/

Faith was holding bobby pins for Rebekah as she continued to work on Leah's hair.

"I've come to collect the bride," Hope waltzed into master bedroom.

"Already?" Leah turned from her vanity. "But I'm not quite – _ah_. Ow."

"Well, stop squirming then," Rebekah chided unapologetically, yielding the curling iron.

Leah turned back toward the mirror obediently, giving herself a once over once more. Her dress hugged her body tightly - simple and short – in a mature shade of winter white. She wore no engagement ring and had no plans to wear a wedding band either; the bracelet Elijah had given her years ago was the only reminder of his love she ever needed.

When she looked up again Hayley had joined the bridal party.

"I thought these might complete your outfit. Don't worry it's nothing extravagant."

Leah slowly reached up and received the little box; it was an odd sort of exchange because they weren't exactly friends...

"You didn't have to get me a gift," she opened the box.

"If it makes you feel better they were on sale."

They shared a smile, understanding each other at least on some level.

Leah gasped softly at the diamond earrings inside.

"They're beautiful, Hayley. Thank you."

"Figured anyone who has to put up with Rebekah in wedding mode deserves a consolation prize."

"Laugh all you want," Rebekah unplugged the iron. "But my work speaks for itself."

Leah's auburn curls cascaded softly down her shoulders as she rose from her vanity, clicking Hayley's earrings into place.

"How do I look?" she asked the room, beaming.

Hayley wolf-whistled and everyone laughed.

"Come on," Faith grabbed Leah's hand. "Let's get you downstairs so Dad can tell you himself."

/

They had all gathered near the tree, packed around the piano. On it rested a simple white form which could have been the Magna Carta for how carefully Elijah handled it as he gracefully signed his name.

Standing back, he relaxed his shoulders, feeling his heart lift happily in his chest. He passed the pen across to Leah, their hands brushing gently in the exchange before he watched with loving eyes as she carefully drew the letters of her new name.

_Leah Mikaelson._

She finished off the 'n' with a flourish and a smile.

"Is that it?" she looked up, handing the pen back to the clerk.

Opening his briefcase, he collected the marriage certificate.

"I'll file this first thing in the morning, but for now, yes - that's it. I can now officially pronounce you husband and wife. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Mikaelson."

"_Kiss her!_" the twins demanded, mixing laughter with cheers as everyone applauded.

Eager to oblige, Elijah drew Leah up into a long and lingering kiss. They broke apart in delirious laughter as a bright light went off in their faces.

"Wait - one more," Faith snapped a photo with her phone. "Okay, now everyone together!"

The room rallied, the three siblings merging their families into one. Faith set a timer on her phone and propped it up, running to squish herself between her parents.

"Smile and look at the camera!"

Leah was smiling at Elijah.

Elijah was smiling at her.

When the flash went off they were looking at each other. Even as everyone filed into the dining room they still dallied by the tree, stealing kisses under the lights.

Hope cleared her throat loudly from the doorway.

"So I guess my last chapter wasn't fiction after all," she smiled smugly. "And who says love only exists in books?"

Leah laughed, letting Elijah's kiss fall upon her cheek as she turned to her friend.

"Well, unless you want front row seats to the sequel…"

"I know. I know. I'll let you two have your moment alone. Just had to say how happy I am for you both. You've always been Leah and Elijah; doing things your own way. Glad that hasn't changed."

"I love you too, Hope," Leah blew her friend a kiss.

"And what about me," Elijah teased once they were alone.

"You, I just _kinda_ love - the way I _kinda_ love having a full house for Christmas, and being Faith's mom, and signing my name _Mrs_. Leah Mikaelson."

"It's all so dreadful, isn't it?"

"The _worst_," she kissed him softly.

He held her close in his arms, not ready to let go of this quiet moment just yet. In a second it would get loud again as Hayley opened the champagne and Rebekah demanded that the cake be cut, as Faith snapped more family photos and Klaus started up his bawdy jokes. Then Aidan would go shot for shot with his sister citing a Thompson tradition they had made up on the spot and Philippe would start reciting a poem he had penned in honor of the bride. Then everyone would be happy and red-faced and breathless as one by one Leah dragged them into dancing with her under the soft, glittering white light of the tree.

And Elijah would stand besides Hope as they smiled like fools and know how it felt to be the luckiest man in the world.

In a second it would be perfect chaos. But for now, here with Leah, it was one perfect moment of bliss.

"Don't look now," she whispered, "but I think this counts as a happy ending."

"Oh, my darling Leah, this is most definitely just the start."

**End of Part 8**

**And the Conclusion of Like Real People Do**

**Thank you again for reading! If you enjoyed the story let me know in a review! xo**


	80. But wait, there's more!

Hi all,

If you've enjoyed this story check out a short sequel project I have in the works via my Profile. The short story is called "The Lead of the Setting Sun" and it's an emotionally driven mystery from the heart of New Orleans. I hope you'll check it out.

All my best wishes,  
Principles of Magic


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